They All Lived Story 65: Dynastic Succession
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Feb-Apr 1984 The trail of the Hashman Syndicate leads to international drama and a coup in Xing. With the peace of the Empire and the safety of Amestris at stake, Amestris sends aid in multiple capacities. Will the Xian family retain control of the Xingese Throne? Will Ed, Al, and Winry be able to stop the Syndicate from using technology they hoped never to see again?
1. Chapter 1

**February 1****st****, 1984**

Cal circled around his opponent slowly, his boots scraping briefly on the hard-packed dirt of the practice yard. His eyes never left the cool, pale blue gaze of his opponent. He ignored the drop of sweat moving slow down towards his left eye. The ground around them was already pocked and pitted from a full on alchemy-approved sparring session. The Tremor Alchemist was formidable, and talented, but a little crude with his technique. Of course, with as much experience as he had, Cal was biased. He had actually pulled two shots in the past five minutes, just to see what else he could draw out of the muscular young man with the rest of the class watching.

He was glad Tore hadn't minded when Cal asked to step in for a few matches. Technically, this one was Tore's class.

Tremor twitched, and Cal refrained from smiling. The guy was probably decent at poker, but when it came to alchemy, his tell gave away his moves. The ground rumbled and Cal jumped into the air and sideways as a pit formed underneath his feet. Pulling moisture from the air, he solidified it into small, near-solid droplets and sent them hurtling at Tremor with enough force that they smacked, stinging hard into skin that would feel painful, not quite like bullets smacking the man, and hit with force, but not enough to do more than leave tiny bruises for damage.

Tremor gasped, lost concentration, and doubled over.

Cal moved in with a rush, and came down on his opponent's back, pinning him to the ground and easily getting him in a quick choke.

"I give," Tremor… Larry Pullman, Cal remembered his name was, coughed out, his mouth half buried in the dirt.

Cal nodded and eased up immediately. "Good fight," he said as he offered the other alchemist a hand to his feet. "You're still telegraphing."

Pullman looked irritated, but he shook Cal's hand, clearly more annoyed at himself than his superior officer. "Thanks for the match, General."

"Whitewater," Cal corrected with a cheeky smirk. "Out here, it's Whitewater, Tremor."

"Yes, Sir."

Cal moved away then, back to the bench where he had left his uniform jacket. He felt warm enough now he certainly didn't need it, despite the brisk, cloudy weather. He felt pretty good. Tremor had been his fourth fight, and he had won them all, though not by so much that he was worried about the ability of the younger State Alchemists. He was just glad he was on form himself.

He would have liked to have taken the Training program on after Sara's death, but Kane had insisted Cal remain his second-in-command, and had given the program to the Azurite Alchemist, Torra Song. She was not a woman Cal had worked with often, given she had most often been assigned to diplomatic endeavors, and she had passed her exam while Cal was still in auto-mail rehabilitation after it had been blown off in Aerugo. She was Alyse's age, calm, and competent, but excellent in a fight, even if she did have a tendency to fight fair.

"Nice work," Tore commented quietly as Cal walked off the field. "Though I wasn't expecting to see you this afternoon."

"Frustrating morning. Bad news in the office. I figured it was better to work it out here instead of in the mess." Cal replied quietly. "Meeting in Kane's office at four o'clock. Be there."

Tore's expression flickered with surprise for only a moment before it returned to a professional, neutral expression. "Of course, Sir." Then he turned back to his students and started barking orders.

Cal watched all eyes –including the familiar gold of Ted Elric- turn back to Tore as Cal wiped his face, grabbed his coat, and headed indoors. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

><p>Tore tossed his jacket over the back of the couch with a little more force than probably necessary, but it fit the irritation he felt.<p>

"What happened?"

He looked up to find Charisa standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, an expectant expression on his face, arms crossed loosely. Insightful as ever, she had immediately sensed his mood.

Tore crossed the room and greeted his wife with a hug and a kiss. "Had a meeting in Kane's office this afternoon," he informed her. "They finally got a scouting team up in the area where the Hashman Syndicate had their base in south-east Drachma."

"I'm guessing it didn't go well."

"The place was abandoned." Tore snorted in annoyance. "No one there; no supplies. The few solid buildings had been knocked to the ground."

"Where did they go?" Charisa's eyes widened in surprise.

Tore released her as they moved into the kitchen. "Signs and rumors indicate they may have pulled back into the desert, to Xing, or possibly Lamor." Lamor was the country north of Xing, though it was nearly as flat as the desert, and cold as Drachma. Not that they knew much about it. They were mostly a nomadic people, though Ren had assured them that there was a capitol city somewhere up there on those frigid plains. They were on neutral terms with Xing at the moment, and preferred to be left alone.

"So they found nothing at all?" Charisa looked disappointed as she poured them both cups of coffee.

Tore took his black. "Not quite. They searched the wreckage and found a half-box of papers that didn't entirely burn. Not much of use, except that half of them were in Xingese. Badly soaked and scorched and muddled, but definitely Xingese. Investigations will be taking a look at them and having our linguistics specialists translate what they can."

"Well I guess I'll hear some interesting things at work tomorrow," Charisa sighed, blowing lightly over her own cup of coffee, cut with milk. "Was Franz there?"

Tore nodded. "Yeah. He had already heard from Rehnquist. He wasn't happy." Not that anyone was, but the remaining General Heimler had his nose very deeply in that case. There was a fire behind his eyes that was only there when he thought they were moving towards his wife's killers. Outside of that, aside from smiling less often –and a lot more gray hair- he was very much the same Franz Tore had grown up knowing. He sighed, and sipped his coffee. "Where are the kids?" It was too quiet in the house for them to be home, but he didn't usually beat them.

"Brandon and Camelia went over to play with Gavin and Damian this afternoon," Charisa told him, smiling as she mentioned Coran and Gale's two boys. Gavin was just a little older than Brandon, and Damian was the youngest of the lot. "We can pick them up at Ethan and Lia's though, since everyone will be there for dinner. Unless, of course, you forgot about the party tonight."

"No, I didn't forget." Though it had definitely fled his mind for a bit. Tore smiled. Edward and Winry were in town, and tonight was their wedding anniversary. Though the party was sort of an anniversary, multiple birthdays party, since Edward and Elicia both had theirs in two days. And, while no one was saying much about it, the day between had been Sara's. "What about Dare?" Not that he was too worried. His seventeen-year-old son was usually busy up until dinner time these days, and out more often. He had plenty of friends from school –certainly a better lot than Tore could admit to having hung out with most of the time- and his grades were good.

At that, he got a mysterious little smile from Charisa. "He's studying… with a girl."

"At her house?"

Charisa nodded.

"Which girl?"

"Lorraine Mathwin,"

Tore knew that name from a couple of sources. For one, Dare had mentioned her more than once in his circle of friends. For another, Lorraine's mother worked in the Assembleyman's office next the one for which Charisa worked. He grinned. "Well, I hope they have a good time."

"They're supposed to be studying Calculus."

"I didn't say I hoped they had a good time studying."

A dishrag smacked him in the face as Charisa tossed it at him. "You're incorrigible."

Tore dared a smug grin. "Isn't that why you married me?"

He dodged the pot holder.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it's been fifty-nine years," Winry commented softly, for Ed's ears alone, as they snuggled on the sofa in the living room of the house they had bought together, nearly as many years ago. Then, they had just been starting a family. Now, the family was too big to comfortably fit in the building when they were all together. Of course, that was why they had built the hill house in Resembool to the scale they had.<p>

"So we'll have to do something particularly romantic and immature for sixty next year," Ed suggested with a chuckle, his arm tightening in a squeeze around her shoulders. "Something crazy."

"I think we've run out of crazy," Winry teased him. "I don't want to try and top eloping in France, three kids, and everything else we've done." The sun was already long down outside the windows, and most of the family had gone home.

"Funny how you lump us in as crazy things you've done," Ethan commented as he leaned over the couch and grinned at his parents. "Though as the youngest, I have to say I appreciate how crazy you were on that score."

"You owe your existence to it," Ed agreed, snickering. "Now how about you continue it by seeing if there's cake left in the fridge for your old man?"

Winry shook her head. "I don't know how you can eat another bite," she commented as Ethan laughed and vanished into the kitchen.

Ed shrugged. "I've got room? And unlike _some_ of the family, I don't have to worry about military evaluations this month." This last was said quite smugly.

"What's the matter, Ed?" Al asked, grinning from across the way on the other couch, where he snuggled with Elicia. "You don't think you'd pass?"

Ed snorted. "Please, Al. It would be just as easy today as it was fifty years ago. I just don't want to put all those younger alchemists to shame." He took the plate from Ethan with a nod of thanks as his son returned, and started eating the rich chocolate cake Gracia had made.

"Do you think you still could?" Elicia asked, sounding sincerely curious. "I mean, I know you keep in condition as much as Alphonse does, but you're talking about fighting men in their prime, learning from methods you developed. Could you beat Cal, or Roy, or Ted?"

"The last two half asleep," Ed replied, but Winry could see that the joking had left his face. "It doesn't take brute force to beat those who lack inexperience. Besides, that's never been my style anyway, unless we're using alchemy." As for his own former students, those now running things… "It would be better fight with Cal, or any of that group, but I still think I'd win. Which means, of course, that Al could take them all without breaking a sweat." The grin returned as he looked at his brother.

Winry watched Al shrug, clearly pleased by the compliment though, as he smiled. "Oh, most likely," he said, with a subtle note of humility. "But that's under ideal conditions. Even I can be beaten if it's an off day. So can you. Toss in a cold day, driving rain, and they come in at a distance…"

Taking advantage of Ed's auto-mail, the sensitive ports, arthritic joints… and his need for glasses to see at a distance, and it would be a different fight. Winry was still certain Ed would probably come out the victor, but she was glad that wasn't something they had to risk anymore. It was all an academic question these days. She cuddled into his side.

Ed nodded. "Fair enough," he conceded the point, before his jaw cracked loudly with a wide yawn. "Or they could try attacking me in bed. Which…I think it where I'm ready to head. What about you?" he looked at Winry.

She smiled. "So early?"

"Well, since my little brother has pointed out how decrepit we're getting," Ed quipped. "I thought we might retire… unless you don't want to join me."

"I didn't say that," Winry chuckled.

"Good." Ed set down his already empty cake plate on the coffee table, and stood, offering her his arm. "My lovely lady?"

"Guess that's our cue to head home," Al laughed.

The evening broke up amicably enough. Winry knew that the grandkids were not yet asleep upstairs. Eamon and Lily would both still be at homework, and Aeddan was probably nose-deep in a book on animals, or alchemy, or soccer. Lia was just now pulling out a pile of papers to grade.

"I'm still surprised you wanted to go to bed this early," Winry commented to Ed as they closed the door to their downstairs room. It wasn't past nine-thirty!

That was when Ed gave her a very familiar wolfish grin that almost made her groan, even as she should have known. "I didn't say I wanted to sleep, did I?"

Winry did not argue as he closed the distance between them, and gathered her into his arms with all the ardor of younger days, though not as forcefully as he might have then. "You didn't," she admitted with a playful smile of her own. "But we should keep it down. I don't think the teenagers upstairs want to know just what their grandparents are still capable of."

"Well then," Ed kissed her neck. "We'll just have to be very…very quiet."

**February 2****nd****, 1984**

Ren didn't usually run home on her lunch break from work. Kamika was in high school, Michio was in college, and Minxia was, as usual, off running around the world enjoying her career as an archeologist and anthropologist. They got phone calls and letters from some of the most interesting places.

It made things far quieter around the house; especially with Will's teaching schedule. Though this semester had been a nice change of pace, since her husband was on Sabbatical so he could focus entirely on his research. Today he was, supposedly, making them both lunch.

Which was, of course, why she only rolled her eyes when she entered to find Will on the couch, in sweat-pants, eating out of a bag of potato chips with the television on. "Does your department know they're paying you to lie around eating junk food?"

Will looked up at her and grinned. "What do you think most tenured professors do on Sabbatical?" he teased.

"Research."

"If it makes you feel any better, I did three hours of that this morning." Will popped another chip in his mouth and grinned. "Care to join me?"

"Is lunch anything more than that bag of grease and fat?"

Will snickered. "As a matter of fact, I made fresh Cretan salad and brewed iced cinnamon tea. It's ready to be eaten whenever you're hungry."

"That seems a far better idea, for both of us," Ren teased as she moved past him towards the kitchen without bothering to sit down. "I'm not buying you a whole new wardrobe if your clothes don't fit next semester, _professor._"

"Oh don't worry about that," Will's laugh was a short bark as he stood easily. "I went for a run this morning before I spent the rest of it hunched over my desk."

"It was a surprisingly nice morning." Ren smiled as they went into the kitchen together, and relaxed against Will as his arm slid around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. This time of year, she often found the mornings too early, and too cold.

Will's grin widened. "Hopefully I can make it a surprisingly nice afternoon."

* * *

><p>There were very few things that Thrakos Argyros considered more beautiful and fascinating than ancient ruins. That was a good part of why he had taken to lobbying for historical site preservation so readily at home in Creta.<p>

The Xingese temple site at which he found himself was as beautiful as, and possibly even older than, many of those sites he had appreciated back home. Though the view he had at the moment was both lovely and frustrating at the same time.

"Do you see the detail on this?" Minxia Elric almost cooed over the half-buried gem-encrusted chunk of statuary they had uncovered that morning.

_I would, except that your exquisitely shaped backside is blocking my view._ Thrakos would normally not have complained, but he had agreed to come on this trip –almost begged- with the distinct ulterior motive of spending weeks –even months- alone with his girlfriend, without half of Creta peering around corners spreading rumors about their relationship.

Rumors that were far juicer than reality, Thrakos had to admit. Not that he wouldn't have minded if the intimacy so commonly assumed were true. Oh sure, reunions were steamy, but getting Minxia into his bed was not so easy as half of Creta seemed to think.

_If you'd just settle down a bit, my little butterfly, instead of flitting across the world at every single opportunity. _

"Thrakos?"

He blinked. "Sorry. And no, I can't really see from this spot. Can you move?"

"Oh, Sorry." She didn't even look up, but she did move her knees over about six inches, and he could wedge in comfortably close beside her for a better view.

Thrakos happily took the opportunity, resting one hand lightly on her back to steady himself as he lowered down in beside her. "That's better."  
>Minxia gave him a brief, sideways glance that said she knew what he really meant. So perhaps she wasn't as wrapped up in her work as he had thought. At least, not at this particular moment.<p>

They had only been at the Kanxai Temple site for two days. Thrakos was doing his best to be patient. "Since I'm not the expert on Xingese temples," he teased, "Why don't you tell me what I'm looking at?"

"This looks to be the hem of the dress of an ancient temple priestess," Minxia explained eagerly. "See these carvings here below the line of jade insets? They're a traditional pattern woven into the trim of temple priestesses robes, and only the females. This particular temple was devoted primarily to women, and only women lived here."

"Does that mean I shouldn't be here?" Thrakos teased.

"Only while they were alive." Minxia brushed a little more dirt off the edge of the carving. "Since this temple took in young girls, often orphans who would have died, it was known as the Temple of Virgins."

"Sounds terribly dull."

"Should we go looking for the Temple of Lusty Bimbos?"

There was an edge to her tone that Thrakos recognized at once from years of experience. "No, no, that's not what I meant. And you know it." He didn't give her time to actually get angry. He elbowed her playfully, then leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Minxia sighed. "Why did I invite you along again?"

"You enjoy my company, and my excellent wit."

"Funny." The gleam in her eye went from anger to dangerous amusement. "I thought it was because I like looking at you."

"I'll take that." Thrakos removed the brush from Minxia's hand and pulled her up onto her knees so he could kiss her more easily. His voice felt lower, huskier. "I'm told I'm quite handsome."

"Sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Thrakos looked at her.

A small shower of dig dust smacked him in the side of the head, and Minxia chuckled as she wrapped her arms around him. "That's better." Then she kissed him soundly.

Only his girl preferred him coated in the dust of ancient finds… Thrakos returned the kiss, as electrifying as any alchemy. If ancient ruins turned her on…

::Miss Elric!::

_These guys have as bad a timing as my countrymen._

Minxia broke off the kiss. ::What is it Huan?:: she shouted at the Xingese archaeologist, one of half-a-dozen currently working other parts of the same temple site.

::We've found another entrance! We think it may be to the underground sacred rooms!::

Minxia almost bounced out of his arms, grinning with excitement. "Did you hear that, Thrakos?" Then she replied to Huan with a bright, ::We're coming!:: and vanished out of the hole they had been in and over the next mound of dirt.

Thrakos was left alone on his knees. Grumbling, he stood and followed. _I'll get you for this, Huan. It had better be worth it. _

* * *

><p><em>Happy Birthday, Belle.<em> Franz Heimler saluted the photo of his wife that sat on his home office desk, took a sip of his coffee, and went back to trying to focus on the papers in front of him. The three stars on his shoulder sparkled in the lamp light, but he noted them only because the light caught on the rim of his glasses as he turned his head. He hadn't bothered getting out of uniform when he got home, but had eaten dinner –leftover rice and beef from the refrigerator- and gone right back to work.

There was something missing about this Hashman case. Franz couldn't put his finger on it just yet, but he was sure there was something they were all missing and it was gut instinct –or more likely years of living with Sara's gut instincts- that had convinced him that it was time critical. Not that he really thought he would find something that the boys down in Investigations, including his own son, hadn't seen but, well, he didn't trust that another set of eyes wouldn't find something that everyone else had missed.

That, and it was better than spending the evening thinking about the fact that it was the second one of Sara's birthdays where he wasn't taking his beautiful wife out on the town. The Syndicate had killed her. Plotting their demise seemed like a perfectly appropriate way to spend the evening. _Justice… revenge… whatever anyone wants to call it. I'm afraid it's the only present left I can offer you, my love. Just you wait. I'll get them for this. They will all answer for their crimes. _

He reached for his mug, but it was empty.


	2. Chapter 2

**February 3****rd****, 1984**

Ethan Elric smiled as he looked down at the soft, angelic face of his wife; pale blond whips had escaped her braided hair, and fallen across her face, moving slightly with any puff of breath. He almost hated to wake her, but the joint birthday party for his father and Aunt Elicia was going to be in less than two hours. The only reason it wasn't chaos was that the family had decided to minimize insanity in any one house and hold the party at Uncle Al's house since his parents' anniversary party had been here.

He also hated to wake Lia, because he knew how hard the spring semester was on all teachers, but particularly those teaching core subjects at the high school. As much as he knew she loved her job, there were days she came home growling about the few students who insisted on never paying attention, talking in class, or trying to pull stupid things. Ethan remembered high school. He did not envy his wife.

"Did you guys do something to your mother today?" he asked Eamon with a mildly accusing stare as his eighteen-year-old son came out of the kitchen holding a can of cola.

"Not my class," Eamon assured him with a shake of his head. "Though Lily said that the guys in her hour were giving everyone a hard time today."

"Speaking of your sister, where is she?" Ethan gave his son a look.

Eamon gave a casual shrug as he leaned against the doorjamb between the kitchen and the living room and sipped his soda. "Randy said he'd give her a ride home later, in his car."

"Where were they going in his car?" Ethan asked flatly. It wasn't that he disliked his daughter's boyfriend of two years. There was nothing really wrong with the boy other than, well, he was Lily's boyfriend.

"Last minute shopping for a present for Grandpa," Eamon replied with that amused little grin he always got when Ethan looked irritated about Randy. Though Ethan knew the only reason Eamon wasn't as protective was because he and Randy had been hanging out since Middle School.

"Oh. I suppose your mother knows about this."

"Of course I do," Lia commented softly, her eyes opening. "They left from school. Now will you please stop talking over my head?"

"Sorry, love." Ethan moved around the couch instead of leaning over her, and then held out a hand as she sat up. "Do you want to change before we go over to Al and Elicia's?" He noticed she had fallen asleep in her work clothes.

Lia nodded as she took his offered hand, and got to her feet. "I do. I'll be back down in five minutes."

As she headed upstairs, Ethan heard the front door slam, a soccer ball bounced through the entryway into the living room, followed by Brigitte, who looked tired as she trotted into the room and headed straight for her water dish, little white ears pricked up eagerly.

"Dad! It's here!" Aeddan's excited shout came from the entryway as he found the box that Ethan had known full well was there. It had arrived the same time he had this evening, by delivery truck.

"Is it now?" Ethan chuckled as he turned the corner, Eamon following behind, to see Aeddan ripping open the box and pulling out the bright red shirts and black shorts with large numbers on the back and "Elric Eliminators" on them.

"They look awesome!" Aeddan's grin threatened to cut his face in half as he held one up. "We're going to kill the competition."

"I hope not." Ethan smiled at his younger son's enthusiasm for the soccer uniforms for the team he and Ren had decided would be fun to sponsor in the local league. Aeddan had been playing soccer for a couple of years, but the sponsor from last year had retired, close the business, and left Aeddan's team looking for sponsorship for their winter season. "Winning is great. Let's avoid doing permanent damage to them, shall we?"

"Are you trying to take the fun out of the competition?" Eamon asked with a snort.

"I'm your father. I can take the fun out of anything you want." Ethan eyed his elder. "Have you finished that report you have due in Continental History?"

"I just need to finish the bibliography," Eamon shot back, grinning. "But that's done. I even got my applications to ECU, University at Central, and the University at Pylos in the mail this morning."

"Good for you." That pleased Ethan even as he felt a twinge knowing that in a few months, the twins would be graduating from high school and moving forward in their lives. They were both applying to all three Universities, but who knew where the future would take them. They had never been apart, but they might well now be split for the first time in their lives. Lily was interested in a more educational career, preferably teaching music. Eamon still enjoyed playing his saxophone, but he was contemplating a more active career path, since his growing enjoyment of camping and the outdoors over the years had led him to discover an interest in animals and wildlife preservation, so he was looking into studying animals, though he hadn't decided if his focus would end up in veterinary medicine or something more ecological involving wildlife.

"Can I try this on now?" Aeddan butted into the conversation, almost bouncing on his heels with excitement, the fact that it might look completely uncool not registering in his mind. Sometimes, lately, Aeddan thought cool was important.

"When we get home," Ethan replied with a shake of his head. "But if you want to bring it along you can show it off to Charlie." Not that the other boy was much into sports, but he and Aeddan got along well, so they would probably end up talking about all sorts of things.

"All right!" Aeddan folded the shirt up as the front door opened again, and this time it was Lily, carrying a shopping bag, smiling.

"Perfect timing as usual, Sis," Eamon chuckled. "We were just about to leave without you."

"Oh you were not," Lily shook her head, but smiled, her face flushed from the chill air outside. "I'm ready to go anyway."

"Randy gone already?" Ethan asked.

"Do you have to say it like that, Dad?" Lily asked. "Yes, he's gone home. His parents are having guests over tonight."

Ethan hadn't actually meant for the comment to sound like he didn't want the boy around. "I see," he replied when _that's good_ seemed like it probably wouldn't sound right, even though he meant well enough. "So all we need is your mother and we're ready to go."

"Lucky for you, I change quickly." Lia came down the stairs in casual attire, looking more awake and smiling. "Let's go before everyone decides to start without us."

"Oh they won't do that," Ethan assured her. "After all, we're bringing the meat for the grill."

* * *

><p>Michio Elric sat in his favorite seat in a corner of the <em>Stalking Tiger<em>, sipping from his mug of steaming hot coffee and listening to the mellow Xingese soft-rock music coming out of the corner juke box. The Tiger was a favorite hang-out for the University of Xing pre-med students, and it had quickly become a favorite for him as well. While there were certainly plenty of bars in the Capitol, he liked having a place where he could get something that wasn't hard, and mellow after long hours in the classroom, or working at his part-time job in the main city hospital, as was expected of most of the pre-med students, even in their first or second years. Not that he got to do much that was particularly exciting, though he supposed he was luckier than some. His alchemical background meant that he was able to assist –mostly as an energy source- in some medical procedures. Though primarily he observed those, or sterilized instruments.

The Tiger was a comfortable place, with regular dining, bar seating -even though they mostly served tea and coffee for drinks- and then an almost living room style section in another room, full of overstuffed chairs, coffee tables, and even a wall that had been turned into one long desk space for University students to work while they downed their favorite caffeinated beverages. It was also open later than almost any other establishment in the city.

Michio hadn't brought any work with him tonight. He had turned in two major assignments that afternoon. One, a research paper in Basics of Alkahestry, and the other a five page report on the scientific findings regarding the use of various anti-viral plants in medicines and in conjunction with other forms of care in Botany II. He had been allowed to pick the subject, and he had enjoyed writing the paper, even if he had gone more than three pages over the suggested limit. So tonight he was just hanging out, though he sort of hoped that one of the girls from Basics of Alkahestry would show up tonight. He had seen her come in a couple of times, but she sat on the other side of the lecture hall from him, and he hadn't managed to talk to her more than a handful of times; almost always briefly in the hall about class.

That didn't help him shake the feeling she was looking at him as often as he was looking at her. It had taken him two weeks after the first chance meeting to find out that her name was Sinia Lao-Sing, she came from Hanshiu Province, and she was also interested in medical alkahestry, though she was newer to the practice than he was. To Michio, that opened up a perfect opportunity to offer to help her out, maybe study together, but he hadn't had a chance to talk to her about it yet.

Tonight would be the perfect opportunity. That was, if he was lucky enough that Sinia showed up.

::They say drinking alone is bad for you, Mich.:: Guan, Michio's friend from two rooms down on his dormitory floor, dropped down in an overstuffed chair next to Michio's and saluted him with a steaming mug that smelled of coffee, possibly with a shot of something harder.

::I'm not sure drinking in groups is any better,:: Michio countered with a chuckle. ::But I'm pretty sure this isn't going to kill me.::

::Not like that Between-Terms party?::

::I seem to recall it was you hugging the toilet after that one, not me,:: Michio countered. He hadn't been foolish enough to get drunk at that party, no matter how many of his friends had enjoyed themselves more than they should. He had gotten away with nursing down a single drink all night. It hadn't taken long before few others would have noticed.

Guan shrugged, but had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. ::Only the once,:: he pointed out. ::So what do you think about the test review for Advanced Mathematics?::

::Do we have to talk about class tonight?:: Michio asked. ::The test isn't until next week.::

::Fair enough.:: Guan sipped from his cup. ::Has she shown up yet?::

Michio was startled only for a moment. Of course Guan had guessed his real reason for sitting here tonight. He shook his head. "No, not yet."

Outside, a large rumble split the night. Out the window, Michio saw a flash of light.

::Sounds like a storm rolling in,:: Guan commented, though his eyes widened a moment as the building shook slightly from the sound of strike.

::A big one,:: Michio agreed.

Another thundering roll, another flash… but the light seemed odd. Now other people were looking up. Then there was another pounding noise, and the building shuddered slightly more.

The hairs on the back of Michio's stood up, and it had nothing to do with electricity. It was something inside. A feeling… ::Something's wrong.::

He stood, as did Guan, as people began to move to the windows.

Fire. The light was not the white-blue flash of lightning, but growing orange, yellow and red. People in the streets were coming out, looking, pointing to the North.

A minute later, the world exploded.

**February 4****th****, 1984**

A soft patter of rain on the roof was the only sound that came to Will's ear for several moments, and he couldn't tell what had woken him. No thunder, just pattering.

Then the phone rang again. Will looked at the clock by the bed… three in the morning. Who would be calling? Ren was sound asleep beside him, resting peaceful and deep.

Grumbling, Will crawled out from under the warm covers, bracing against the chill air that smacked against his skin as he crossed the room to the upstairs phone they had installed a few years back. _Time to turn up the heat. _"Hello?" he spoke into the phone groggily.

::Uncle Will?::

Will blinked. That voice was familiar. It sounded like it was coming from a distance. "Tao?" he spoke the name of his eldest nephew. It was early morning in Xing.

::I don't have much time….:: Tao said. ::The Capitol is under attack! They've got some kind of projectile explosives. The North Wall is down. North Quarter's in flames and the palace is under attack! We're pulling back—::

Explosions on the other end blocked out whatever Tao had been trying to say.

::—that door!:: Tao's voice came back, though it was clear he was yelling at someone else. ::Retreat to the safe rooms!:: Then the sound returned to the vicinity of the phone. "Yours was the only Amestrian number I knew,:: Tao admitted. ::Please, call your government! They have lots of men and weapons.:: His voice grew distant again and Will faintly heard ::Get them out of here! Hurry before—:: And the line went dead.

* * *

><p>The scene in President Rehnquist's briefing room was as close to chaos as Military HQ got, as Edward knew only too well. He hadn't been invited to this meeting. Neither had Alphonse. Yet they both stood against the wall and their presence had received some raised eyebrows but no one had dared tell them to leave. The one Sergeant in the hallways who had tried to question them had almost wet himself when Ed informed him exactly who he was and what the man could do with the regulations. It was a sign of the severity of the situation that Alphonse hadn't even given Ed a dirty look.<p>

They weren't the only people in the room who were not, strictly speaking, military either. Will and Ren were both present. As the ones who had received the initial contact from the heir to the Xing Empire –and as Ren was Emperor Mao's sister- it was only fitting. Besides which, Ren knew things about politics in Xing that even the ambassadors didn't know.

The long table was full, holding all of the higher ranking military officers, including plenty of familiar faces: Marcus Kane, Hal Brewster, Cal, and Franz. Tore was there, looking as bleary eyed as the rest, though not out of ease. Not that Ed thought any of the men were anything other than at their most alert. The fact that they had been pulled out of their beds before five in the morning did not at all hinder them in an emergency situation.

This definitely qualified.

"We've had confirmation from several sources," Rehnquist was explaining tiredly, "That this attack on the Capitol City is, indeed, a coup attempt. The men and weapons are reported to have come out of Tiahuan Province. While we have no confirmation yet on whether or not the Tiahuan Clan is directly responsible or not, the soldiers are reportedly wearing the clan colors."

Ren looked ready to spit. Her hand, tight in Will's, was white knuckled.

"They have plowed a fairly straight line of destruction through the Northern quarter of the city," Rehnquist continued in his usual, calm manner. Only the strain in his eyes made it clear how hard he found giving this particular report. "The Palace is under siege and we do not have any report yet of whether it has been taken or the status of the members of the Imperial family. Reports are inconclusive and unreliable, with everything ranging from they all escaped, to everyone is dead. Given the situation however, that last seems unlikely."

Ed hoped they weren't just saying that.

"Our Ambassador contacted us after evacuating the city." Franz stood up as Rehnquist settled back in his chair, clearly exhausted. Franz looked only a little better, despite being decades younger. "His last contact with any member of the Imperial family was right before the phone call from Tao Xian, apparently." Franz' eyes flickered to Will and Ren. "With much the same message. A request for aid from Amestris. How much aide has, of course, not been determined, but given the severity of the attack, some response of force is necessary."

"Sounds like a civil war," Brigadier General Tyrain commented. The younger, dark-skinned man looked particularly disgruntled at being up early. "I know that we have treaties with them, but by the time we mobilize this could all be over. What do we owe to them anyway?"

Ed bit his tongue. He didn't need to lose his temper. Franz answered for him. "Because Xing came to our aid in the war with Drachma," Franz replied with a much sterner, colder tone than Ed would have used. There was a matter-of-factness to it that dared the other man to question it and see what happened. "It's not a matter of treaties, lines on a map, or timing. Xing was unstable for decades until Mao Xian replaced the previous Emperor. If we allow a violent overthrow to go unopposed, it could destabilize the current continental peace for decades."

No one else argued.

"What kinds of weapon are they using?" Kane asked, getting back to the matter at hand.

Franz continued. "The weapons are not cannons, or even really gunpowder based. Instead, they seem to use a liquid combustion fuel. They can be aimed, and they are designed to explode on impact. The explosive charges are here."

One of Rehnquist's aides flipped the chart to show several sketches of the weapons in question: mostly cylindrical projectiles.

Ed almost gasped. Beside him, he could feel Al tense at the same moment. _How in the hell?_

Apparently their expressions did not go unnoticed. "Something you recognize, Edward?" Rehnquist asked.

Ed couldn't deny it. Not now. He nodded. "Yes but… it's classified."

"I think everyone in here has the necessary clearance." Rehnquist's eyes went to Will and Ren.

"It's more complicated than that," Ed objected. He had never thought he'd be dealing with this particular technology again in his lifetime. It had taken decades to come to it here. But, apparently, those decades had still brought to fruition the evidence of research he had done himself in the other world.

Unfortunately, the fate of Xing might rely on his divulging that information now.

"I don't think you have the luxury of being particular, Fullmetal." Rehnquist accented the name.

All eyes were on him and Al now. Ed sighed. "Rockets," he said softly. "The technology they're using… I don't know what they're calling them, but I've seen it before. They're called rockets."

"How do you know this?" Lieutenant General Bringham demanded.

"Because I did research, design, and testing on them over fifty years ago." Ed did not say where. "It was decided by President Mustang that the information was too dangerous to be used. It was classified and I was sworn not to reveal it. The notes have been locked away ever since. I should know, I've still got them."

"You?"

All eyes were on them, wide, though none with suspicion.

"Yeah. Anyone has a problem with that, they can have a talk with my boot later." Ed snorted. "The point is I know what those things are capable of, and what they're describing isn't at all an exaggeration. You couldn't even do that much damage with alchemy unless you had a team of alchemists who could work together in perfect synchronization using the same techniques. Xingese Alchemists don't work that way anyway. And… it explains where the Hashman Syndicate has been getting their explosives, if they really have moved to Xing for their base of operations. Wouldn't they be somewhere near Tiahuan Province, according to intelligence?" Ed looked at Franz.

Franz nodded. "They would." There was a new light in his eyes as he seemed to be putting together the same information Ed was.

"Then it's not going to be easy to help free the Capitol City from an occupation," Ed replied flatly. "But it can be done. The problem will be taking out not only their weapons, but finding and shutting down their manufacturing facility." Which was, most likely, somewhere deep within the Provincial territory. "And we still need to find out if this is an isolated incident."

"What do you mean?" Bringham asked.

"I mean I don't believe this is the only attack." It just didn't make sense that it would be. It seemed too obvious, and the strike had happened without the initial movements being tracked. "We need reports to find out if they've attacked elsewhere. A coup is only good if you can back it up once you take the top of the hill." They needed to find out who was alive too, and who was captured. And who was dead.

After Ed had said his piece, he sat back and kept his mouth shut until the meeting ended. There wasn't a whole lot that could be done other than preparing to mobilize a force to go to the city's immediate aid. Preparations could move into full swing without waiting for more information, though intelligence would be working around the clock to get news from so far away.

Finally, it was over, and the military minds in the room started a press for the door to get to work on individual assignments and alert their men to the situation.

"Have you heard from Michio?" Al asked Will softly as they waited for the military officers to file out first.  
>Will shook his head. Ren looked pale, even with her already milk-fair complexion. "Not Minxia either."<p>

Ed winced. The University was in the North Quarter so there was no way of knowing if Michio was all right until he found a way to contact the family. Knowing him, though, Ed would have been surprised if Michio hadn't made some attempt to protect his relatives in the Palace, given the chance. If he had been there at the time, than it was also possible he too was captured. Just because the Elric relatives were officially not able to inherit the throne did not make them potential political pawns or hostages.

Even with rockets and explosives, Ed couldn't imagine Mao, Mei, or any of the family giving up without one hell of a fight.

"Minxia wasn't anywhere near the Capitol," Al commented reassuringly. "We'll probably hear from her as soon as she gets news of the attacks."

"If she does get anything out at that dig," Will commented.

"Think positive," Al smiled at his son. "Besides, you know Minx keeps an ear to the radio for anything important, even in the middle of nowhere."


	3. Chapter 3

**February 4****th****, 1984 (Still) **

By the end of the day, reports were pouring in via telegraph and phone lines, but they were grim. The Capitol was nearly a quarter rubble, and the Palace had been taken by the Tiahuan soldiers with their explosive projectile rockets. There was a report of combat on the Tiahuan Province border with its nearest neighbors as well; both the Yao and Paxang Provinces. It seemed that the coup attempt might include a bid to carve out their own empire, however small, from the rest. Word was that the Tiahuan –conservatives by anyone's standards- had finally decided to do something about their dislike of the forward-thinking direction Mao had been taking Xing since he became Emperor. They knew the family would continue that direction, and they had decided to put a stop to it to 'save' Xing. If that meant wiping out the Imperial family and installing someone new as Emperor, then so be it.

The next direct communication from the Imperial family did not relieve anyone's anxiety. Tao contacted them again, managing to call Military Headquarters directly this time. "I am in command of what remains of the Imperial Guard," Tao reported in his best Amestrian. "We have had to retreat out the Southern gate, and are holding on the hills to the South-West of the capitol. They have not yet tried to pursue or push us here. The rest of our organized military is marching on the Tiahuan border on orders from myself and General Quixong. I have no word of my family other than reports that claim Empress Jiu, my wife and daughter, my sister-in-law and her son, and my sister Meifen, were seen being loaded into a truck."

When he heard those words, Alphonse felt a terrible sense of sympathy for his daughter-in-law's nephew. Tao's wife, he knew, was pregnant. Surely, he hoped, they wouldn't kill the women and children. Not yet, if they made good hostages.

It was only ten hours after their first meeting in Rehnquist's meeting room that Al found himself and Ed back there, with all the officers, as more definitive plans were laid for the first wave of men who would have to move towards Xing at all speed. Even with the trains, it would take nine days to reach where Tao said he and his men had shored up outside the city. That assumed nothing went wrong.

Al knew Ed was dying to butt in, but his brother had remained surprisingly quiet during much of this meeting. Al knew why, even if the others didn't. He and Ed had already discussed, in some detail, what needed to be done in order to make sure that the full destructive capabilities of rockets as weapons did not do to their world what it had eventually lead to in the other. At least, he thought, they didn't have bombs with the power of the ones Dumais' journals had told them had destroyed two cities in Japan.

At the moment, the discussion was focused on which members of the military leadership would be going to Xing. It had gone back and forth for several minutes before Franz Heimler set his hands on the table and stood up. "With all due respect, President Rehnquist, I request assignment to command of the Xing Operation."

Several faces registered surprise. Al glanced at Ed, whose face was grim but not startled. _They think the Hashman Syndicate is involved. Of course Franz wants in on it._

A few others started to voice objections, but Rehnquist held a hand up, silencing them with surprising ease. "Do you have a plan, General Heimler?"

"I do, Sir."

"Let's see it." He gestured to the map of Xing that had been pinned up on the wall over the usual map of Amestris. This particular one was blown up, leaving off the farther eastern regions of the Empire and focusing on the Western half, where the embroiled areas were at present.

"This is what I propose," Franz walked to the map, picking up a long pointing stick as he moved. "A two stage response. Our first objective needs to be to relieve the Xing military holding outside the Imperial City, and retake it. The seat of Xing is the power of Xing, and that symbolism is ingrained in the people. That is also our best bet for finding out the truth of reports regarding the whereabouts and status of any members of the Imperial family who are still unknown by the time we arrive. Obviously we hope to hear from or about them before the next two weeks are up."

He tapped the capitol. "Once the majority of our forces have joined up with Tao Xian and his men here, a force will branch off, come around the South of the city, and move North-East to the Tiahuan border to bolster Xingese forces here. Both forces will have Alchemists in their ranks, for defense as much as anything else, but they are our best match going up against weapons like these."

"You want to use alchemists offensively?" Brewster asked.

"I want to use them against weapons that have already proven more destructive than any other force we've faced…aside from enemy alchemists," Franz replied with a stony calm. "We have alchemists who have already proven they can take out enemy fire in mid-air, particularly explosives. If they can do that, then they can take on these." He glanced at Ed and Al, as if to verify that fact. Al nodded, as did Ed, however subtly. Franz knew the right of it. It occurred to Al that Franz probably had very nearly as much knowledge of what alchemists could do on the field as alchemist's themselves. He'd been married to Sara for decades, and with the rest of the family, he'd been immersed in it. Apparently he'd been listening.

"There are certainly adaptable methods," Cal Fischer spoke up in agreement.

"Which is why I want you and Closson," Franz replied. "We need alchemists who can think on their feet, who are adaptable, and particularly suited to this kind of work. If nothing else, they should be glad that they will be used against weapons instead of people as much as is possible. There are a lot of innocent people in danger in Xing right now. This is our opportunity to help them."

Cal and Tore both nodded, though Al could already imagine what Alyse and Charisa would think of this plan. His daughter was not going to be happy.

"You need one more thing," Ed spoke up suddenly.

Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Al noticed at least a half-dozen pairs of eyes rolling.

"What's that, Fullmetal?" One of the older Generals quipped.

"You need a team that can dismantle the factories," Ed replied, stepping forward away from the wall. "A specialized team that knows the best way to destroy rockets without setting off half of Tiahuan Province. I suggest a team primarily of engineers and alchemists."

"You claim to be our resident expert on the subject," Rehnquist commented, though as Ed and Al had shown him some of Ed's old notes for proof earlier that day, he did not look as skeptical as he might. "Who would you suggest?"

"A force that is not directly under orders from the military," Ed continued into what they had discussed, knowing it would not be popular. "Going to their aid is one thing. No matter what you do, if the military starts sabotaging Xingese industrial sites, it will leave a bad taste in people's mouths. Al and I will go, with a team of our choosing. We're pretty good at industrial sabotage, as you might know by now."

"Aren't you kind of old for this?" Bringham commented wryly.

Al stifled a grin as Ed's eyes flashed, and Ed rounded on the dark-skinned General. "This isn't about age, it's about knowledge. It will be a stealth mission, behind enemy lines for much of it. It's not about brute strength, but cunning and careful planning. Besides, I can still take most any alchemist in the state in a fight. This room…" he glanced around meaningfully… "I can take any one of you. Al could too. Feel free to meet me outside afterwards if you don't believe me. But what you need for that mission is people you don't need on the front lines. If we do it right, they won't even realize we're there until it's too late and we're gone."

"How are you going to hide in Xing?" the younger man scoffed again.

"It's amazing how well you can blend in when you speak the language, and with a little hair dye," Al chimed in.

Bringham shook his head, but most of the others looked thoughtful. Or, at least, they were letting Rehnquist and the upper brass make their decisions without having cause to get irritated with the rest of them. Who knew what armpit assignment they might get next otherwise.

"Pick your team," Rehnquist said finally. "But don't tell me who. From this point, other than coordinating communication, the less the military knows about what you're doing the better, though I do expect you to pass along any information that might keep the rest of our forces from getting blown up."

"Of course," Ed shrugged, as if it were of little consequence, and it would be an easy thing to accomplish. "While we're there, we'll also sniff around for any hostages. If they start making demands, be sure to let us know. It may help us get them out before it's too late."

Military action, rescue operation, and demolition party all in one; it was going to be a very interesting couple of months. Al just hoped their wives didn't kill them for volunteering.

"All right, Heimler," Rehnquist said after several more minutes of back and forth discussion. "Command is yours, and Fischer and Closson will be under your command. Show these Tiahuan Xingese we mean business."

Franz nodded. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>"Of course I'm coming with you," Winry insisted, giving Ed one of those glares that told him he had as much chance of changing her mind as convincing her that glass-shard underwear might be comfortable. "Though I wish we had time to swing through Resembool. There are a few tools I'd want to take with me, as well as the rest of your notes on the subject. It's been a while since I read all of your rocketry research."<p>

"You read all of it?" Ed asked, startled.

"Of course I did!" Winry shook her head in exasperation. "I was the engineer in the family first. Besides, I thought there might be something in there I could use for improving auto-mail, or the propulsion on wheelchairs."

"You wanted to put rockets on wheelchairs?" At that, Ed had to stifle a laugh.

Winry shook her finger at him. "Well, it was an idea. I did decide it wasn't a good one. At least, not at the explosive size you were writing about. But I'm not letting you and Alphonse run off into Xing without me." She lost a little steam then. "Who else do you want to take?"

"Will and Ren have both volunteered already," Ed admitted. "I don't really want them both to go, but I can't blame them. We haven't heard a thing from Mich and Minx, or Mei or any of the rest of the family. I'm amazed Ren's held together as well as she has." Her mother, brother, and all the rest of her Xing blood kin were missing save her eldest nephew. Tao was in his thirties.

"Having Ren along would be an asset," Winry nodded thoughtfully, her eyes going soft with sympathy. "Her knowledge of local custom, politics, and her skills as a doctor might well save us all from disaster."

"Will's refusing to let her go without him, even if it means leaving Kami here," Ed informed her. Kamika was nearly an adult, but her parents had no intention of pulling their youngest child into a war zone that had already thrown the family into chaos. "Though he doesn't want her front-line. I wish we could take Ted and Roy, but this is going to be strictly an undercover operation, and I promised I wouldn't pull any of the military men away from other posts for this. Rehnquist is concerned about political repercussions."

Winry looked as irritated with that notion as Ed had. "Politics? There are people dying! If we can help, we've got to do it."

"That's my girl." Ed smiled and pulled Winry close. For a moment, she was stiff from anger, then she relaxed in his arms, wrapping her own tightly around his neck.

"Besides," she spoke softly. "Someone has to keep you put together."

"I know," Ed replied. "That's why I'm glad you're coming with me." Dangerous as it was, he felt they were in less danger as long as their plan was unknown than the military, who were walking right up to those rockets as not much more than a big target, hoping they could get out of the way until they figured out effective attack strategies.

Ed had already thought of several. Tomorrow, he would be passing those on to Cal and Tore so they could brief the alchemists who would be going.

"I have to admit," Winry replied, "You're taking this a lot more easily than I expected."

"I've learned when it's best not to argue with you." Ed chuckled. "Besides, I think I'd rather have you by my side. This isn't going to be easy though, you know that." His biggest worry at their age was, as much as he hated to admit it, their age; particularly where Winry was concerned. Not that she wasn't healthy and fit, especially at their age, but she wasn't the fighter he and Al were. He didn't know how much she could still take, especially when who knew what the weather would be like. It was winter in Xing as much as it was winter here. Some parts of it were warmer, but probably not where they were going. Ed wasn't looking forward to aching ports and arthritic joints either.

Maybe Winry would fare better than him after all.

"I'm more worried about the argument we'll probably have upstairs tonight."

Ed straightened enough to look her in the eyes, though he knew what she meant. "Ethan's going to have to fight that battle himself."

* * *

><p>"Don't even give me that look, Ethan Elric."<p>

Ethan looked at his wife, torn between indignation and chagrin; the first that she would dare presume she knew what he was going to say, and the second at the fact that she almost certainly knew, given the wary expression on Lia's face. "Are you even going to hear me out?"

"What's to hear?" she asked, standing in their bedroom, arms crossed under her chest. "You want to go to Xing. You want to help Ren and Will and your folks find Ren's family and destroy those rocket factories. I listened over dinner. I saw the look on your face; it's there now." She gestured at him with one hand. "And then you're going to tell me that your health shouldn't be a concern because you were fine during that trip you took several years ago, and that you'll be sneaking around, and you'll pretend it won't be that dangerous even though you'll have to sneak through possibly hundreds of miles of Xingese countryside without being discovered and you could be shot, or just blown up-" her voice caught for a moment there, "-and it's the end of Eamon and Lily's senior year, and Aeddan's soccer team will be starting practices and you… you'd just run off and endanger everything we have. It's bad enough half the family is going. I'm still stunned that Franz asked for the mission, and that your parents and Al are going."

Ethan crossed the room and took her in his arms. "I know. We're all scared, Lia. I'm worried about them, and Will and Ren. Not a word on Michio even. It's driving them crazy, and it's going to until they go and save everyone they can. Against these rockets, they'll need all the help they can get to restore peace in Xing. The number of lives lost is climbing already."

"And I don't want you among them."

"I wasn't about to try and get blown up," Ethan replied, but the sting in her words hurt. "I have to go, Lia. You understand that, don't you?"

"No, I don't, because you don't." Her expression hardened again, and Ethan knew he was in for it. "The military is going, they're sending a whole _division_ to Xing under Franz' command! They'll have the best State Alchemists they can take with them. As for doctors, it's Xing. They have most of the best medical alkahestrists and physicians in the world. _You_ are needed here. Besides, if Ren's gone, one of you needs to stay here and keep an eye on the practice."

"Our resident interns are more than capable of handling our current patients," Ethan objected, but he knew it wouldn't help him out this time.

"No!"

"Well, they are."

"That's not what I meant." Lia shoved at him in frustration. "Yesterday… we were celebrating. Now the world's in an uproar again. I guess, I should just be grateful neither of the boys is old enough to go."

Ethan decided not to point out that age and war meant little to nothing in his family. Sara and his father and uncle had proven that. "There is that," he agreed instead. "You don't have to worry about them."

"Or you." Lia looked him in the eyes. "Tell me you won't go, Ethan. We need you here."

He wasn't going to win this one, and Ethan had learned the hard way he didn't want to try and push this fight with his wife. The last time he'd won it, he'd had to live with his mother-in-law for several years in penance. Stubborn Elric pride could not withstand his wife's eyes. "All right," he sighed. "All right. I won't go to Xing."  
>"Thank you." Lia's arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace of clear relief.<p>

Ethan felt immediately guilty. He couldn't blame Lia for her fears. They weren't unfounded. And besides, the Hashman Syndicate was still out there. As much as they had gotten used to the heightened security around Central, Ethan still noticed that they had a military detail on them almost any time they went anywhere. And the almost probably just meant he couldn't always pick them out. "I love you," he replied. "And I love our kids.

Ethan wondered if anyone else was having trouble with their wives tonight.

* * *

><p>"What makes you think you can run off and make me stay home?" Trisha asked Roy with a look of sheer indignation and fury.<p>

Roy gave her a look that was meant to be patient and placating. Instead it just looked frustrated. "We can't risk both of us, Trish. Think of the kids. They're not old enough for us both to go."

"So _you _stay home."

"Look, I was assigned to the mission. You weren't. If you really want to have this fight, take it up with our commanding officers," Roy suggested.

Trisha stifled a growl. The kids were both in bed upstairs, and she didn't want to wake them. "Not with Dad at the top of command. It won't happen. I don't like being protected."

"Who said you were being protected?" Roy asked, looking surprised.

"Well you're going," Trisha pointed out. "Whitewater's going. Shock's going. Even Ted and his lot are going and they're practically green! Damn it, even _James_ got assigned to go on the investigations end. Every member of our family in the military is going except for me!" There was nothing fair about it. There wasn't even anything practical about it. She was fully capable, and her skills could be tremendously useful, and yet here she was, stuck at home playing the mother and wife.

"Trisha!" Roy set his hands on her shoulders, and took a deep breath, clearly trying not to lose his temper either. "I didn't say it was fair. It's not. I know you're an amazing alchemist. Everyone knows that. Your father isn't even making those assignments; Kane put that in Whitewater's hands. We can't _both _go."

It was true, on the simple account that neither of them wanted to leave the kids, and if something happened to them both, it would be the kids who actually suffered most. She sighed. "I still don't see why it has to be you and not me."

Roy, intelligently, did not say it was because he was male, even though he half suspected that was the case. "Because you're the better parent?" he suggested instead. "Do you think they'd survive months at home with just me?"

"You'd manage." Complimenting her skills as a mother weren't going to get him far. "I want to have a word with Whitewater about this."

"No." His hands tightened and there was a moment of concern in Roy's eyes that gave her pause. "Trisha don't argue. Do this for me. Do this for your Dad."

"Cheap shot, Mustang," she grumbled. Bringing her father into this. Her mother had only been dead a couple of years. While Trisha was incredibly thankful that he hadn't fallen apart, or lost himself in drink or depression like so many other men might, she didn't like Roy using that to make her feel guilty about wanting to go do her _job_.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted. "But it will be easier for both of us if we know that you're here, safe, with Rosa and Gabriel. Your Dad's already lost your Mom. What do you think it would do to him if he lost you too?"

"What about James?" Trisha pointed out, though she could tell she'd already lost this fight, at least if she only wanted to have it with Roy. "He's going."

"As a brain," Roy replied without hesitation. "He's not going to be assigned a frontline position and you know it. Dangerous, yes, but right up in the front as explosive fodder? Not a chance."

"That's good," Trisha replied, "Because you will _all_ owe me for going off and making me worry that any or all of you might come home dead."

* * *

><p>"If you die, Cal Fischer, I will never forgive you."<p>

"I didn't think you would," Cal replied softly as he cuddled with his wife in bed. The room was dark, save for a surprisingly clear night's full moon that flooded their room with soft silver-blue light. "I assure you, my goal is to not only live through this war, but for this to be the first major military offensive where I don't come home with new holes in me."

"I think that's a very good thing," Alyse agreed. In the darkness, he felt her warm body shift, and soft lips touched his. "And nothing missing either! The last thing you need is more auto-mail."

"Oh I don't know," Cal teased, "There are some parts that could be very interesting challenges to auto-mail engineers."

"And even more of one if you enjoy intimacy," Alyse quipped back.

"Fair enough." Cal stopped joking. "I mean it, 'Lyse, I'll do my best. Besides, this time I'm in a command position. I'm not going to be out on the front lines unless something's already gone completely haywire. If we get into that kind of disaster, well, then we've got bigger worries. These guys have got to be stopped; both the coup, and whatever the Syndicate's involvement is with them. Until then, not even home is really safe." He didn't have to mention Charlie's kidnapping. He still had nightmares about it every once in a while himself. He was grateful for the added security on his family, given he knew the drain that was on military resources. It was good to know that Rehnquist took the lives of his State Alchemists seriously.

"You sure know how to reassure a girl don't you?" Alyse asked wryly.

"I do try."


	4. Chapter 4

**February 5****th****, 1984  
><strong>

The scent of burning rubble accosted Michio's nose as he slunk past the blackened husk of what had once been an apartment building, doing his best to remain out of sight of the Tiahuan soldiers patrolling the streets. It wasn't even forty-eight hours since the initial attack on the city, but already it seemed a foreign place to him.

Almost no one was out on the streets at this early hour. Michio had only made the sojourn into the city because he desperately needed to find medical supplies, food, and drinking water. He had come close. Armed with what he had been able to get from the shops on the East side of the city, he made his way cautiously towards the gates, and the North end of the city. It had been the only way out –and a calculated risk- going out that way last night, but it was a ploy that had worked. None of the invading army had expected members of the Imperial family to flee _towards_ the attackers.

That was the only reason he had gotten out of the palace after rushing up the hill to protect his family. The night was a memory that was stark, and painful, though slightly hazy with pain and smoke.

Michio crept out a hole in the wall after checking to see that no one was looking, and vanished into the forest that came almost up to the walls on the northern side of the city. The forest that had been used –along with alchemy, he suspected- to hide the oncoming military. He still wanted to know how they had arrived so suddenly and without their movement being noticed beforehand.

Michio suspected traitors in the Palace. There were several guards in the palace who were from Tiahuan Province. The Tiahuan clan was known for their long-standing loyalty to the old Imperial ways. The fact that they didn't like Uncle Mao's more moderate, forward-thinking ways was a long-standing fact, and a bone of contention between Xian and Tiahuan.

The ground was damp from rain that had fallen the night before, thankfully putting out several of the fires started in the northern quarter of the city. The forest dripped, smelling of rich, dark loam as Michio crept through it, doing his best not to be noticed as he stole several hundred yards from the walls, and then ducked down a small gully and into the tiny inset cave along the sand-bottomed stream. Only playing with his cousins as a boy had taught Michio the location of that particular cave, on one of their rare family trips to Xing, but he had been grateful for it now.

::Uncle Mao?:: he called tentatively as he crawled through the opening that, while easy enough for children, was a tighter fit for an adult. Creeping aggravated his twisted ankle, and his wounded shoulder, but there was little to be done for it. His uncle was in far worse shape.

::Here,:: Mao replied, his voice quiet more out of weakness than a need for silence.

Michio crouched down on the smooth sandy floor, next to the prone form of the Emperor of Xing. His uncle's wounds were far greater than his own, and Michio counted it among the universe's miracles that his still-limited grasp of healing alchemy had been enough to close them, and keep his uncle from losing more blood. Everyone had fought valiantly, but Michio counted himself lucky that he had managed to get his wounded uncle out of the Palace at all, let alone to a safe hiding place. At least, as safe as anywhere. ::How are you feeling?::

::I've been better,:: Mao replied without any attempt to smile. His skin was pale, save for his face, which was flushed with fever. Stopping the bleeding was only one step. Michio knew his uncle's situation was still dire. He wasn't good enough to stop internal bleeding and heal his uncle's organs fully, though he didn't think anything critical had been hit, or his uncle would be dead already.

::I've got water, and tea,:: Michio commented as he sat down the ragged pack in which he had stuffed the supplies he had pulled out of abandoned shops. If they all got through this, he would return to those places with money later. AT the moment, he doubted the owners would notice a few missing items. ::Green tea,:: he added, pulling out a liter bottle. ::I also found some food, clean bandages, and a couple of bottles of disinfectant.:: It wasn't much, but it was all he was going to get at this point. ::Oh, and these,:: he pulled out a bottle of pills. ::They're not very strong, but it's better than nothing.:: They should help with the fever, even if they were likely too weak to do much about his uncle's pain. They would do more for Michio, but he planned to save them, using them only for his uncle. He had no way of knowing how long it would be before he could get his uncle safely to someplace where he could get proper medical attention.

Mao's eyes focused on the bottle, and he nodded. ::What's to eat?:: he asked weakly.

::Mostly canned goods,:: Michio admitted. ::And a can opener.:: He had wanted foods that wouldn't spoil, and wouldn't require cooking, so he had grabbed cans of pre-cooked foods and stuffed the remaining corners of the pack with anything that would last for days, or might be cooked easily, including a bag of rice. They could live off rice for weeks if necessary. Michio hoped it wouldn't take that long. ::So, for tonight, I've got canned sausages, canned mushrooms, and pre-packaged rice balls.:: He pulled out one of each, including the plastic-wrapped rice balls. ::We'll eat as soon as I've seen to your wounds.:: The worst one, a deep gauge in the side of Mao's stomach, was the one that worried Michio the most. Another alchemical healing session, disinfectant, clean bandages, and then the medicine. It was all he could do.  
>Michio just hoped it was enough.<p>

* * *

><p>"So when do you leave?" Krista asked James as they sat in the café.<p>

Under any other circumstances, James would have been thrilled to be alone with Krista, drinking coffee and eating fruit-filled pastries. He was glad she had agreed to meet him for breakfast, but he wished the circumstances were better. "In two days," he told her. "They want us ready to go with the first group. It will take two or three days to get everyone on trains heading for Xing. We'll be on the first one."

"So you'll be going with Mr. Closson, and Cal Fischer."

"And the rest of the State Alchemists," James nodded. They were all going on that first train. His father would be on the second train with the majority of the rest of their initial force. After that it would be a steady stream of trains for as long as the lines remained open. "They need intelligence."

"Are you scared?"

James wanted to scoff at that, but it was Krista asking, and he just couldn't bring himself to fake bravado in front of her. "A little," he admitted, warming his hands on his coffee mug. He wasn't really thirsty. "I know that Investigations isn't going to be put on the front lines immediately, but given the reach of these rockets, I get the feeling that it's not going to be safe anywhere we are while we're there. Not until everything is resolved."

"You've had combat training," Krista pointed out, though she looked worried. James didn't blame her. As close as she was to the Closson family as well, she had plenty of family to worry about.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," James assured her. "And yeah, I've had plenty of training. So don't you worry, okay?" While there was a part of him that wanted to know she actually cared enough to worry, he didn't want her to feel that stress and agony.

Krista looked down at her plate for a moment. "I'll try, but I think it's a lost cause. I don't want anything to happen to you… any of you," she added quickly. "You're one of my dearest friends. If anything happens…"

"It won't," James hastened to assure her. One of her dearest friends… well it was better than just being casual friends. But he felt a stab of jealousy wondering who the others were he was being counted among. "We'll go over there, teach these guys they can't mess with friends of Amestris, and be home before summer break."

"I hope so." Krista's hand reached out, squeezing his fingers.

Startled, James squeezed back. "Krista…" He had no right to ask, but if he didn't now, he may or may not ever have the chance. "When I get back, will you go out with me? I don't mean just as friends. I've liked you for a very long time, and I think you know that. I don't want to go off, knowing that while I'm gone, some other guy might win you over before I really get the chance."

For a moment, he thought he had said the wrong thing. Krista's expression went still. Then she squeezed his hand again, and leaned over the small table between them. "What do you think we're doing now?" she asked, smiling gently. "Yes. When you get back, we'll go on the most amazing date ever. But that means you have to come home." Then she leaned across the table, gracing his lips with a brief kiss.

It was like being hit with electricity, only much more pleasant. James leaned into it, regretting immediately the brevity of the contact. "I look forward to it," he said when he finally found his words again. Inside, he was doing handsprings and shouting for joy. On the outside, he hoped his expression was a little cooler than that. "Though any time spent with you is amazing."

**February 7****th****, 1984  
><strong>

Cal hugged his family goodbye at home. He had to leave for the train before the kids went to school, and he didn't want them missing it just to see him off. So they had a better-than-usual family breakfast; which meant Alyse got up extra early to cook them all waffles –from scratch- with fresh fruit, maple syrup, and powdered sugar.

"Be careful," Alyse warned him softly as they hugged tightly.

Cal had already promised that several times in the past couple of days. Instead of reiterating it again, he kissed her warmly instead.

"I love you, Dad," Gloria's hug was almost as tight as Alyse's, though very different. There was a fear in that embrace that made Cal's heart ache, and he hadn't even left home yet.

"Love you too," he replied. "Don't you worry. We'll go over there, make everyone play nice, and be home in no time."

"Play nice?" Charlie snorted.

Cal looked over at his son as Gloria stepped back and, on impulse, ran his hand roughly through Charlie's already tousled hair.

"Hey!" Charlie put a hand up in defense a second too late. Then he sighed, shrugged, and hugged Cal too. "I'll hold you to that promise."

"Good." Cal smiled, then his voice got quieter for a moment. "Take good care of your mom and your sister. Okay? I know they like to say they can take care of themselves, and they can, but they'll worry about the stuff that doesn't need worrying. Keep them busy thinking about something besides war okay?"

"Was that permission to get into trouble?" Charlie asked.

Cal ruffled his hair again. "That is not what I meant and you know it!"

* * *

><p>"You ready for this, Proteus?" the Tremor Alchemist commented as he hefted his sack over his shoulder and headed for the nearest train car.<p>

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ted Elric replied, his emotions a conflicting mire of thrill and trepidation. It wasn't his first mission in the field. It wouldn't even be his first time getting shot at –he assumed they were going to be shot at- but it was definitely the largest engagement that he, or the rest of his team, had faced.

It was reassuring that he had been assigned to a four-alchemist squad, and that his partners for the time being would be the Tremor Alchemist, Larry Pullman, and their two female friends and year-mates, Clarina Harper and Vera Kollan –the Alabaster and Ultraviolet Alchemists, respectively.

"The girls said they'd save us seats," Pullman commented as they pushed on board with the others. The girls had boarded earlier. Ted wondered how they had managed to get in the first round of folks getting on the train and avoid the crush they were dealing with now.

"Good, or we'd be hanging off the back of the caboose," Ted commented as he scanned the crowd, looking for the contrast of short-dark hair coupled with pale-blond shoulder-length hair. Primarily, he was looking for Clarina's blond hair. He could pick out her near-platinum color in any crowd.

Besides, it took his mind off of the night before, when he had seen Krista give James a kiss goodbye after dinner on Uncle Ethan's porch. He suspected the two had thought they were alone. Ted had ducked his head back inside fast enough, and by the time anyone went out again, the two were gone.

A jealous monster snarled inside him, but it was conflicted, and he had to admit, he felt mildly guilty. Krista and James looked happy. He had always known his chances with Krista were, at best, a half-shot against his cousin, and even less considering all the other men out there that found Krista attractive.

There was also the matter of Clarina. Ted found his colleague just as attractive as he did Krista, and each in their own way, given their nearly opposite coloring and very different personalities. He found himself in the troubling position of liking them both, and dating neither of them.

Not that hanging out with the girls and Larry wasn't something he still did regularly, but it was all friendly. They were colleagues, and even among State Alchemists, fraternization was a cautious thing. Chain of command was so much more limited.

"Over here!"

Ted heard Clarina's voice at the same time he saw her smiling face as she hopped up and down slightly on her feet to be seen over the taller crowd of military men around them. It was so cute. Ted grinned and waved back. "There they are."

Larry grunted and the two of them pushed their way down the aisle. As promised, the girls had saved them seats. Even less of a surprise, Vera had made sure that Larry would sit next to her.

Fraternization rules or no rules, Larry and Vera were an item, and had been for almost as long as they'd both been State Alchemists. It didn't bother Ted any. After all, Trisha and Roy were both State Alchemists, and Aunt Sara and Uncle Franz had both been military, even if they were under different commands. Besides, he wasn't one to get ruffled about anyone's private life as long as it didn't interfere with his own.

A brief flash of Krista and James kissing last night came into his mind again, and Ted banished it. "Our angels of mercy," he grinned as he stowed his duffle above the seats, taking the one next to Clarina. "And here I thought we might have to stand all the way to Xing."

"It would still be better than marching," Vera commented with a dry chuckle, "Or riding in trucks across the desert."

"Instead we have hard seats and something resembling temperature control," Larry commented, sitting as close to Vera as he could get, but not quite close enough to put his arm around her shoulders, though Ted could tell he wanted to.

"I'm not complaining," Ted commented, smiling at Clarina. "For one thing, we've got good company, for another, I can almost assure you the food on this thing is better than what we'd get in a truck."

"Of that I have no doubt," Larry agreed. "And it'll be almost eight days before we get to the Capitol, so it's not like we've got much to do other than entertain ourselves."

"I've got that covered," Clarina smiled, reaching into her pocket and pulling out two decks of cards, and a portable chess set.

Ted laughed. "I'll play anyone here at chess. Loser pays for our first meal in Xing."

**February 8****th****, 1984**

"Somebody want to remind me why the hell I thought this was a good idea?" Edward grumbled as he was jounced, bumped, and otherwise painfully jostled as the former-military truck made its way through the rutted, ancient bit of road that ran through the desert between Amestris and Xing.

"Because you figured it was the way they would least expect us to come," Alphonse retorted from the driver's seat.

"And you wanted to go through the Xerxes ruins on the way," Winry reminded him from the front passenger seat. "You said it might help, though I'm not sure how."

"Call it a feeling," Ed retorted, wincing as they went over a particularly lumpy dune. "Or maybe a connection. I'm not sure. I just think it's a good idea."

"Hey, no one disagreed," Al reminded him patiently.

"And I'm certainly not one to disregard your instincts," Will replied from where he sat next to Ed, crammed in the smaller back seat of the truck. While there was plenty of cargo space in the back, no one had wanted to sit back there on the benches over this terrain. "Though I wish Ren could see it."

"Maybe we can drag Ren across the desert on the return trip," Ed suggested wryly. "She's better off with Franz and the military, and they with her."

"I know." Will sighed anyway. "If her family is anywhere in the vicinity, she'll find them faster than anyone, and she probably knows the back-politics on everything better than all of military intelligence combined. That doesn't make me feel better about this."

"Take your mind off it." Ed tossed Will a battered leather-bound notebook. "Work on memorizing that instead."

"What is it?" Will turned the little book over and then opened it. He whistled. "Are these your old rocketry notes?"

Ed nodded. "Well, close enough. It's the version I copied out in Amestrian. I figured no one in Europe would be able to read them that way. Easiest code ever. Once you've gotten through that though, we need to do a much more detailed comparison with what the Tiahuan Clan has built. We can't assume that they've developed the exact same technology, no matter how much it seems like they have." The one thing Ed did not want to do was fall into that trap. There was more than one way to do things. He had learned that the hard way many times.

"I do wish we had talked Urey into coming," Winry commented as Will buried his nose in the notebook.

Ed nodded. "Me too." Urey had voiced no interest in coming, despite the fact his alchemy, and his head for problem solving, would have been an asset. Not that he was in any physical condition for the hardships they were likely to be facing when they got out of the desert. Even that was colder than Ed was used to. It was almost cool, even by day. But then, maybe the challenge would have been good for him. Ed certainly thought so. "We'll tell him all about it when we get back. At least someone's watching Mal." The dog would have been far too much trouble, and too noticeable, to bring along.

"The smaller the group, the easier time we'll have sneaking through the enemy lines and avoiding detection," Al commented. "Besides, who would suspect three old fogies like us?"

"And one middle-aged college professor?" Ed snickered, glancing over at Will, who just rolled his eyes and kept reading. "Fair enough. And once we get into disguise, no one's really going to be able to tell we're not from _somewhere_ in Xing."

"I still can't imagine myself with black hair," Winry admitted.

"It's the easiest way to blend in." Ed had used dyes on his hair, and on hers, before. Using alchemy it was very easy to make it look completely natural. Winry had made a fabulous redhead once, though that undercover mission was decades ago. "That, and with the clothing we've got, we'll be nicely inconspicuous."

"It's a good thing my daughters keep up with Xingese fashion after all," Will commented from behind the book. It had been Kamika who took them shopping to make sure what they bought was something that folks their age might actually be seen wearing in Xing. Ed's awareness of Xingese fashion was mostly limited to what Old Bao had worn, what the Imperial family wore, and traditional monk attire. Not particularly useful in this case. Their clothes were much more traditional still, but that was only because Tiahuan was known for being traditionalist, old fashioned, and always at least ten to twenty years behind the times. That worked to their advantage.

"That it is," Ed agreed. "Now we've just got about five days to get our accents right."

**February 9****th****, 1984**

It was really hard to hold off a siege when being besieged without any real walls for protection. Tao Xian was not a boy. He was not even an untried military officer. The Xing Empire, for all its vast size and traditions, had never been a quiet, stable place. While his father's rule had been one of the _most_ stable, it had still been a tenuous peace in many areas. So Tao had cut his teeth dealing with the occasional minor uprisings or disputes in various outlying Provinces. With fifty clans, there was more than enough politics to go around. Though he had been out in the field far less since marrying Peina. As the heir, dying was not on his priority list. As a husband, and now a father, it was even further down the list.

No one had expected old fashioned, resistant to change Tiahuan to explode first.

_Peina, Taia, if they've harmed either of you, I swear there won't be one of them left alive when this is over._ Not if they hurt his wife, his six-year-old daughter, or the unborn child still in his wife's womb. He didn't think they would stoop so low as to outright assassinate the women of the family, but that might be a vain hope. Still, it was one he held on to. He was in command of the Imperial Army. If his father was dead, that made him Emperor…at least in presumption. At worst, it made him acting-Emperor. He preferred to think that his father, who was a fantastic fighter in his own right, was alive somewhere, just out of contact. Though he did not know who Tiahuan would be attempting to set up on his father's throne.

He hadn't heard from his younger brother either. Shan might be out there, and his wife. Meifen, his sister, may have escaped. Grandma Mei… he worried about her, but given her abilities as an alchemist and a fighter, he just couldn't imagine her lying dead somewhere when he had last seen her fighting with tenacious ferocity, long dark hair flying free of her braids and whipping through the air around her.

The Tiahuan military force seemed more interested in holding the city than crushing the remains of the military outright. That was, Tao assumed, because they did not actually have the forces to manage it. Attacking a city, mostly full of civilians, and causing mass destruction and chaos, was easier than taking the military head-on, even with projectile explosives. They had made a few pushes at Tao's position, but only enough to harry them and keep them cut off from helping the city, or getting supplies from it.

That was all right, Tao kept telling himself. They had provisions coming in from behind and, in a few days, as long as they kept the train tracks open… reinforcements. Trying to retake the city now, as they were, would be suicide.

They just had to hold out a few more days.

And he would keep telling himself that for as long as he had to.


	5. Chapter 5

**February 9****th****, 1984**

"So this is where it all started." Alphonse's voice held quiet awe as they walked through the empty streets of a ruined city.

"That's one way of looking at it," Ed agreed, not speaking much louder. "A city destroyed by alchemy." It was humbling to think about, particularly considering the many years it had taken him to unravel the full truth of his father's stories. Unraveling the truth and the lies about what had happened with Dante…and how his father had really first gained immortality. How the first philosopher stones created had destroyed cities.

So perhaps, here, in what was both the birthplace, in many ways, of the alchemy Ed knew, and –more directly- of their family line, he just felt there must be something here that could be useful to them.

"Maybe they knew something we didn't." Will commented, coming up beside them. "Where do we start?"

"Right at the heart of things." Ed moved forward without hesitation. He had been out here once before, though he hadn't had the opportunity to dig around much.

"How do you know where to go?" Winry asked as they all fell into step, moving through the ruins of towers and buildings, of what had once clearly been a thriving metropolis.

"I've been here once before," Ed reminded her. "And there was an old map in Dad's stuff. I used to look at it when I was a boy."

"And you still remember what was on it after all this time?" asked Winry wonderingly.

Ed nodded. "Some things are hard to forget."

Eventually they came to the remains of a palace, broken asunder, the once high ceiling open to the sky. Sun streamed in, and in the heat, only dust remained, and the occasional desert lizard shifting through the sand that had gathered and piled inside from centuries of sand storms.

"There." Ed pointed at the wall at the back of the room. "That's what I wanted to see."

They all came to stand below it. A transmutation circle, for lack of any other word, with signs and symbols that had once puzzled Ed, who had only understood about half of it. Now, having studied for decades, he recognized the rest. It was the proper combination of alchemical energy, of internal and nature, flowing together. There was little mystery to it now. But that didn't mean it did not stir something inside of him.

It made him think, and that was what he needed right now; A brilliant idea as to how to not only counter rocket science with alchemy, but to dismantle and destroy it. He doubted they could truly find a way to keep it from ever coming back. The best they could do was delay progress. But what they _could_ do was make that progress costly enough that it would give countries time to put in rules, regulations, requirements; the opportunity to demonstrate that anyone abusing that power would not be tolerated.

"Feeling brilliant?" Al asked.

"Getting there." Ed smiled at his brother. "You?"

"I was just wondering what would happen if you transmuted the fuel _inside_ a rocket while it was in mid-air," Al admitted. "Or if you transmuted the explosive inside the heads into something harmless before impact. It would take crazy precision if you didn't do it on the ground…"

"But if you could get them on the ground, without the enemy noticing, than it could definitely make for interesting surprises," Ed nodded thoughtfully, the gears in his head beginning to whir almost as fast as the ones that worked his auto-mail in combat.

"Could you manage that in large quantities or is it too pin-point specific?" Winry asked curiously, her lovely brow furrowed in thought.

"I can do anything on a large scale," Ed snickered, and he meant it. It would be a little tricky, but nothing he didn't think he and Al would have too much trouble with. "Though if we want to make it easier, we would do better to transmute all of their raw materials in the plants to something useless."

"Or their mines," Will suggested, jumping into the spontaneous brainstorming session. "Ruin the metals. They don't have a way to turn it back. They're old fashioned, and apparently not big fans of alchemy or alkahestry except when needed, so that would ruin them."

"That it would," Ed agreed, nodding as he began to pace eagerly back and forth in front of the ancient carving. "At which point, even if we can't manage to completely take out the factory, it'll be useless to them until they can get another source of the appropriate metals. I'd still rather take it out, but that's definitely a feasible part of the strategy. We'll have to see if we can find out where they're mining and what factory they use for processing their metals. We may need to hit that too; take them out at multiple levels of industry."

Al watched him with some amusement. "Looks like we found what we came for."

"Oh really?" Will asked.

Ed only smiled to himself as Winry nodded in agreement with Al. "All it takes," she said, "is a little inspiration."

**February 10****th****, 1984**

Soreness and pain cried out from every joint, every limb, even though she had lost conscious awareness of her limbs –which had fallen asleep from lack of proper positioning and bad blood flow longer ago than she could account for.

Darkness, fuzzy and suffocating, surrounded her, wrapped her in sweat and scratchy… something. Even though cold came through cracks somewhere nearby, it was warmer where-ever she was -bouncing and jostling along, clanging against the surface below her- than it was outside.

Slowly the fuzzy-headedness began to dissipate, and she remembered things, disjointed things. She remembered heat and loud screaming noises in the air. She remembered fighting, and unconsciousness, and then every so often reaching this muzzy state before having her nose stuffed into something and falling into darkness once more.

Only this time, the bouncing did not stop. And her head began to clear further. She was a captive, in the back of a truck. The faint scent of straw and old manure told her it was a farm hauling truck of some kind, though she could see little, except from the dim light coming through the same cracks and slats that occasionally let in icy blasts of winter cold.

She was alone.

She was not _supposed_ to be alone!

Burning thirst returned, as did gut-ripping hunger. Wiggling until she fell over, her hands and feet tied behind her, she managed to get a little feeling back into them. And oh how that burned!

Her family… captured. She remembered faces, and names. _Run, Grandma Mei!_ A voice echoed in her head. Her grandson's voice –Michio's voice- as he and Mao darted off down another hallway, trying to lead the invaders away from Mei, and Jiu, and the rest of the women and children of the family.  
>Mei went with them to protect them. Not to protect herself.<p>

_I should have taken better care of myself._

She did not think she was terribly wounded. Her aches mostly seemed to be from being tossed around in the back of the horrid truck. There had to be some way out of the truck. If she could just escape, maybe the rest were captured, in trucks with this one. It was a better hope than that they might be dead. Mei just needed time to come up with a plan for getting out, especially with her hands tied. She had no way to make a transmutation circle. Oh how she wished, just for a moment, that she had Edward and Alphonse's talent for alchemy without circles.

The trucked stopped suddenly, and Mei half flew, half rolled, across the back of the truck and slammed into the front of it with a loud clang. Cursing inside her head, she tried to lie still as she heard a door open, and grumbling outside. If she pretended she was still unconscious, maybe they wouldn't drug her again. She knew the unpleasant tang in her nose now that she had regained some of her senses. It was a fairly common drug for knocking someone out. Not at all rare, and very cheap, but effective.

The back gate opened with a screech of metal in need of oiling, and someone leapt up into the echoing cavern. The blinding light of day seared through her eye-lids.  
>Mei remained still as the man bent over her, handling her roughly as he looked her over, apparently for wounds, and checked her pules.<p>

::She isn't dead,:: he called up to the front.

::Good. Dose her while you're back there,:: the guy in the front called back in response. ::We're late, and the last thing we need is our delivery remembering she's got a mind of her own.::

Mei didn't dare struggle, much as her mind cried out to fight back, as a filthy rag was stuffed up against her nose.

As she went back into unconsciousness, Mei did her best to hold on to one simple thought. _I have got to find a way to break out of here._

* * *

><p>::Minx, you're going to be the death of me.::<p>

Minxia paused at the top of the hill to look back down at Thrakos, who was scrambling up behind her, panting heavily and looking exasperated. Okay, so the hill was more of a cliff, and they were both wearing nearly fifty pounds in gear each. ::What's the matter? City living making you soft? Where's your sense of adventure?:: she responded in the same language he had slipped into, which was Cretan, his native tongue.

::Back in camp, with the artifacts,:: Thrakos admitted, grunting as he pulled himself up the last few feet. ::I can't believe I thought this was a good idea.::

::Well it was, until the car broke down.:: Minxia had to admit that, maybe, it had been a bit rash to run off towards the Imperial City when the news had come across the radio, two days after it had first happened, that it was under attack and her family was missing, possibly presumed dead, and in at the very least in terrible danger. Her cousin Tao was holding out on a hill South-West of the city, but that was all she knew. No word on anyone else, not even her little brother.

She hadn't been able to stand it. And it had taken very little to requisition a vehicle that could handle some rough terrain, and wend their way out of the wilderness of the dig site and onto the highway. They were days from the city by car, too far East to make the trip as quickly as she had wanted.

They hadn't made it more than two days when a winter storm had stranded them in the little village of Kanahua for nearly another two days, dumping frigid winter rains and flooding the local stream. After that, the car wouldn't start. Using the time to scan radios, and television, for any further news, Minxia had discovered rumors that the Tiahuan had captives in a truck convoy, heading north-east (more north than east) from the Imperial City, back towards Tiahuan Province.

That was all she needed to talk Thrakos into continuing their trip, first catching a ride with a local who lived nearly a day in the right direction, and then hiking into the next town, buying supplies, and trekking it north on foot. It was the fastest way across country that had almost no roads, as it started to get mountainous, and if her timing was right, Minxia thought they could hit the right road ahead of the caravan in question.

::I know we have to hurry,:: Thrakos reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze as he caught his breath. ::But it's starting to get dark. We need to think about setting up a camp. It's going to be cold tonight.::

::You think it's cold every night here,:: Minxia pointed out.

::If I can see my breath, it's cold,:: Thrakos countered.

Of course, Creta was far warmer than this most of the year, so Minxia couldn't blame Thrakos for being more aware of the cold. At least their camping gear included warm sleeping bags, which they had been zipping together and huddling in together, for the sake of warmth.

::Fair enough.:: Minxia looked around the top of the ridge they had just climbed. It did have the advantage of being a good vantage point for the valley below them. She could see for miles. There was even a town in the distance, though it looked to be at least two or three hours more on foot. It would be dark by then. ::Let's camp here,:: she suggested. ::It looks like there's a windbreak down in these trees, and no one will see a fire.:: Not that it really mattered, she supposed, as long as no one thought they were anything other than locals. ::I'll cook if you set up camp.::

::Deal.:: Thrakos followed her down the ridge to the flat area she had spotted, which –despite the fact that the trees here were missing a lot of leaves- had several green conifers, and was reasonably clear of debris, leaving a nice flat rock area that would be perfect for safe fires.

Minxia pulled out their food as Thrakos set up the tent they had brought with them, laid in the sleeping bags, and fetched water. By the time he was done, she had a fire going –no alchemy needed- and put water on to boil. In relatively short order they had a steaming noodle soup, and hot tea.

::It's all about tea here,:: Thrakos sighed as he sipped from the cup she had made. ::I don't suppose we have anything to sweeten this with?::

:What, you don't like green tea plain?:: Minxia teased gently as she cuddled up next to him, grateful that she had packed warm sweaters for the trip. Even though it had been warmer at the dig site, it was more like central Amestrian fall than the heat she might have otherwise expected. ::Sorry, it's what we've got. Maybe we can pick up something for it in that town tomorrow. Or get a real breakfast.::

::Something other than rice cereal?:: Thrakos asked, almost pleadingly. ::I'm getting a little tired of rice.::

::You are _so_ spoiled.:: Minxia leaned over and kissed his cheek. ::And clearly you haven't adopted a Xingese spirit yet. Rice is the most amazing food in the world! You know that, right?::

::Hopeless.:: Thrakos shook his head, then gulped down the tea, probably because it was hot more than the flavor. Minxia happened to like the flavor.

::Yes, you are.:: Minxia finished her own tea, and then stood to bank the fire. ::We should get some sleep. The earlier we're up the better. We can't be sure the convoy isn't driving at night.::

::That's true,:: Thrakos said, watching her until she finished, then he stood and joined her in the tent, zipping the door closed behind them to keep out the cold air as much as possible. It was a good, winter-lined tent.

Minxia turned and began to undress, but she had just gotten her sweater off and was reaching for her more appropriate night clothes when arms snaked around her from behind, and Thrakos' warm skin pressed against hers as he pulled her back up against his bare chest. It felt good, and warm, if surprising.

::We could sleep like this,:: Thrakos suggested, nuzzling the back of her neck.

Minxia felt a slight shudder run through her; not unpleasant, though he had caught her off guard. ::Thrakos…::

::It'd be warmer,:: he urged, though from the tone in his voice, she knew that was not the first thing on her boyfriend's mind. ::Sharing body heat is much more effective this way.::

There was truth there, though it wasn't her primary concern. ::Can you control yourself?::

::Do I have to?:: he asked, his voice dropping slightly in register. He didn't pull her any tighter, but his grip was firm. ::Please, Minx. We're finally alone. There's no one to pry, to care, to spread a scandal. Besides, what scandal would there really be? I've been in love with you forever.::

::And what happens when we get back?:: she asked, turning in his arms to look him evenly in the eyes. ::You've got work to do, and I've got work to do, and they're almost never in the same place these days. Who knows how long it will be before I even make it to Pylos again? Who even knows if we'll get out of _this_ mess?::

::Oh we will,:: Thrakos replied. ::At the moment, we may not even be on the right trail. But that's not the point. I love you, Minx. When we get out of here… I want you to be my wife.::

::What?:: Somewhere below her, her stomach and jaw sank through the mountain below them. Stunned, Minxia tried to find words. ::But what about-::

::I don't want you to give up your work,:: Thrakos responded quickly, ::But I've been waiting for you for a long time. I don't want to see you every few months, or maybe only a couple of times a year. I want you with me, where I can see you, and talk to you, and not feel like a letch because I can't keep my eyes and thoughts off of you.::

::I… this is kind of sudden,:: Minxia replied, trying not to stammer. She was almost angry at him for springing this on her now, in the middle of the woods, while they were trying to locate a caravan full of her kidnapped family members.

::I know. My timing is terrible, but this moment… it's hard to get you all to myself,:: Thrakos replied. ::You don't have to answer me now, but I know you love me. I'm just saying, I don't want to wait until we're old and gray to finally settle down enough to enjoy life together while we can.::

::Fair enough.:: Minxia willed her heart to steady and her breathing to slow. _He just proposed. At least, it sounded like he proposed. _And while she certainly did not want any other man, Minxia couldn't bring herself to feel thrilled or flattered or even surprised. She knew she would feel those things later, perhaps, when her mind was no so much elsewhere.

As to the problem of tonight… well they had been dating on and off –mostly for scheduling difficulties that she had to admit were her doing- for roughly eleven years. ::It would be warmer,:: she agreed, wrapping her arms around his lean-muscled waist. ::Let's get some sleep, okay?:: Anything else could wait for morning, sunlight, and a clear head.

::All right,:: he replied, looking disappointed only for a moment before the expression was covered, and Thrakos knelt, taking them both down to the bedding. They broke apart long enough to crawl in, and then snuggled together tightly.

Minxia smiled, and kissed him warmly in wordless apology before she cuddled up against his side, and in his arms. ::You're right,:: she said. ::This is nice.::


	6. Chapter 6

**February 11****th****, 1984**

"How many of them do you think there are?" Minxia asked in a soft whisper as she peered around the corner at the four trucks that were parked outside the gas station across the street. They definitely belonged to the Tiahuan Clan, even though two were military style vehicles and two appeared to be farm trucks for hauling livestock or supplies. They were mostly enclosed, and old, but serviceable.

The people on the street were mostly avoiding them, eyes downcast ever since the one guy they had seen who tried to tell them what he thought of their actions at the capital was beaten down in the street. Minxia thought he was lucky they hadn't just shot him. This was Qin Province, and Minxia remembered that the Qin Clan was one of the smaller clans on the Tiahuan border. Fighting with them over their potential annexation would only result in a lot of deaths. They were not particularly militant.

"I'd say at least twenty," Thrakos replied. They had slipped into Amestrian. Minxia wasn't sure whether it was safer to claim to be a local or a tourist at this point. Right now, it didn't seem to be safe either way. "There's two driving each truck, and I count about twelve soldiers as escort."

"It's got to be them," Minxia replied. Who would need that big of an escort for prisoners outside of the Imperial family? The two closed vehicles would hold people so easily. You couldn't see in. Her suspicions were confirmed when two soldiers opened the back of one of the trucks and carried in a pile of discount rice balls. _Probably better than some prisoners might get. At least they're being fed. _Minxia could imagine how terrified her littler cousins were, not sure where they were going or if they would even live. "If they're planning to use them as hostages, we have time." They would have killed her family outright if they just wanted them dead. At least, that was her hope. Minxia wasn't exactly used to thinking in terms of a political and military coup.

"We still need a plan," Thrakos pointed out. "We can't just bust in there. They're armed. Your alchemy against twenty guys… you're good, but I wouldn't make that bet."

"I wouldn't either," Minxia admitted. "We'll have to find a way to follow them if we can't think of something here. If we don't get them free before they hit the fighting lines on the Tiahuan Border, we might as well write them off."

"You'd give up?" Thrakos looked surprise.

"Of course not," Minxia sniped. "But at that point our chances of survival drop even further."

"This doesn't leave us with a lot of options." Thrakos shook his head, and they both ducked back behind the corner. "They haven't left the trucks alone once."

"But at night they can't possibly all be sleeping in the trucks." Minxia thought furiously. There had to be a way to rescue someone, anyone. She wanted them all, but she would settle for anything they could manage as a start. She didn't even know who was in there. "So if we wait until they stop for the night, we can catch them off guard and bust open a truck."

"If they're drugged or bound, it's not going to be a fast escape," Thrakos pointed out. "We'll need to sneak in, quietly. If we bust in they'll hear us and there's no way we'll get away fast enough. Didn't you say Tao's wife is pregnant?"

Minxia nodded, and reevaluated the plan even as it was trying to form in her head. Peina couldn't run. The kids would try. If they were drugged though, there would be the problem of hauling everyone at a far enough distance to go to ground and hide before they were discovered. Pursuit would make escape nearly impossible in that instance. "So… we follow them if they leave, and catch them at night. We may just have to take whoever we can. I don't want to have to pick between family members, but if we don't try, than no one will make it. I do not think they intend to actually let everyone live. They went in shooting." And the last radio reports still listed Emperor Mao as missing. No one seemed to think he was captured. The Tiahuan had not yet put out any kind of announcement or ransom concerning the rest of the family. And no one, anywhere, mentioned Michio.

Minxia actually found that last reassuring. Hopefully Tiahuan had no idea that her brother had been in the Imperial City. She fully trusted in his ability to get out of the way in case of danger.

"It's as good a plan as we've got," Thrakos sighed. "How are we going to keep up with a convoy of trucks?"

"I think we should see how much those cost." Minxia pointed down the street, to where a farmer from some apparently remote, or rough, location, had a pair of mountain ponies hooked to a cart. "They won't make motor noises, and if we rescue anyone who's impaired, they won't all have to walk."

"Fair enough. Though I hope you have a magic wallet in your pocket somewhere."

"Better than that," Minxia grinned as she took a deep breath, then stepped away from the wall and walked toward the farmer set up at the edge of the small market. "I have Imperial credit."

* * *

><p>"This doesn't look good." Cal grimaced as he surveyed the smoke and wreckage of the walls of the Imperial City from the vantage point of the top of Tao's Hill. At least, that was how he was thinking of it for now. "The city has definitely looked better."<p>

"That's an understatement," Franz said grimly. "If Central looked like this it would be a national disaster. I can't believe they managed this much without opposition."

::The Provinces they marched through were subjected without a fight. They were too terrified by their weapons,:: Tao Xian informed them. His Amestrian was decent, but he preferred his own tongue in discussions of more complex topics, like warfare. Cal didn't mind. His Xingese was pretty good. ::We've only found out recently that they required radio black-outs and news control on all of them. They are smaller Clans, weaker ones who would not want to bring that kind of power down on their heads. Survival is often more important than national pride.:: There was a wry twist in his tone at that last. ::A couple of them apparently sided more willingly.::

"Seeing the results, I can't really blame them," Cal replied, much as he hated to admit it. He wanted to be angrier with the people who hadn't alerted the capitol. But he knew how much trouble it had been to get information from areas of Amestris during the Drachman invasion. People just wanted to survive, and sometimes they were cut off from communication. It wasn't that hard to cut off phone lines or even television lines. Not everyone had television either. "How many people have you managed to get back in to assess the situation?"

::Only a handful,:: Tao replied. ::They're watching the walls, and trade has come to a stand-still except from their own supply lines to the north. But they've mostly left the locals to fend for themselves as long as they don't try and fight the soldiers in the streets. They haven't started rebuilding anything.::

Cal felt a sting of sympathy at the look of pain in Tao's eyes. This was his Empire, as much as his father's. It was his home. His people were hurting. His wife and child and family were missing. His father may well be dead. Tao didn't look like he had slept much in the days since the attack. "So what's our best plan of attack, General?" he looked at Franz, whose eyes hadn't yet left the city walls. There was keen calculation behind those glasses.

"We have two missions here," Franz replied. "To retake the city, and to find anyone of importance who may still be here and alive. That is going to require some intelligence regarding who is still on your side, Xian. If half the nobility that were in the palace are quailed as easily as the areas this army walked through to get here, than taking back the city will only be one of the smallest problems we have. "

Tao nodded grimly. ::How do you propose we accomplish these things? We have been working out a strategy for retaking the city, but it relied heavily on seeing how many men you brought, and what types of forces.::

::We will look over that together,:: Franz agreed, slipping into Xingese. ::As for the second, we have brought another specialist.::

::Who?:: Tao looked at him, curious.

::Me.::

Cal turned his face just in time to see the woman Tore had escorted from the back of the train caravan.

Tao's face lit up, and in moments, his arms were wrapped tightly around Ren. ::Aunt Ren. It's so good to see you.::

::It is good to see you safe,:: Ren replied, squeezing her nephew until Cal wondered if he would hear ribs popping next. ::I have some ideas as to where we might, if we are lucky, find anyone who escaped. Before, when Mao was new on the throne, there were places we had prepared for hiding in these types of situations. I do not know how well stocked they are now, but it is possible that anyone in hiding will be in one of them. They were family secrets, and not all of them are places I think you know of.::

::Then any news at all would be welcome on that score,:: Tao admitted. ::Our family has always had an escape plan, and the only reason it worked was most of our guards were still loyal. This… I did not foresee.::

::None of us did,:: Ren pointed out. ::It is not something over which you should torment yourself with what-ifs. It has happened. Now we will fix it. But first, we must make sure we rescue our family.::

"You won't be able to take much cover," Franz commented.

"You don't have to be so cold about it," Tore said, looking a bit shocked by Franz' coolness on the subject. Cal was nearly as startled. This was family they were talking about. Surely Franz, of all people, understood that.

::No, he's right,:: Ren replied, looking not at all offended. ::I'd be noticed, and we would have to move more slowly. No one knows I am here yet. If we are smart, it will stay that way.::

Cal nodded, though he didn't like the idea of her going alone. "Choose two men to go with you," he suggested. "A party of three shouldn't be too much trouble. How long will it take you to check these spots?"

::A couple of days I think.:: Ren pondered that. Cal found it interesting how easily she slipped back into speaking entirely in Xingese. Over the decades in Amestris, her accent had faded to only a very slight lilt normally, hardly noticeable. But the shift back was so natural, it seemed rather exotic. _No wonder Will fell for her. _::I will make my choices,:: she continued, unaware of Cal's thoughts. ::They need not be alchemists. I can handle that well enough, and you will need them in the battle that will be needed to retake the city.::

"We will need them," Franz agreed. "There are ways alchemists can be useful in deflecting and neutralizing the weaponry we'll be facing."

Cal just nodded. He and Tore and the others had spent a lot of time listening to Franz –a bit odd he had to admit- outline several very functional strategies for the alchemists of various talents to destroy ordinance in the air or on the ground. On the ground was far easier, but required getting close to, if not behind, enemy lines. Half of those strategies had Sara's creativity written all over them, though Franz never mentioned her name as he laid out his plans. Still, none of the alchemists in that meeting had balked at being told how to do their jobs by a non-alchemist general. Not when Cal and Tore both vocally approved. They were good plans, and while some of them were daring, none of them put the alchemists in more risk than was necessary to get the job done. War was risky no matter what. That didn't mean they had to go on suicide missions. None of these were like that. At least, nothing that did not qualify as a last ditch effort if everything went terribly wrong.

"Hey," Tore asked as they stared out at the city walls. "Why haven't they just shot you guys on this hill to hell with these rockets of theirs? Aren't they in range?"

Tao shook his head. ::We're not entirely sure. So far we believe that the accuracy of their system still decreases quickly the farther the range, despite the destructive power. This is fortunate for us, as they seem to have to engage at a range that puts their front men at risk to fire it with accuracy. I am sure they would not hesitate to wipe us out, but to do so from here would destroy enough of the train lines they would damage their own supplies eventually.::

Cal watched a look of, not quite maniacal glee, but definitely thoughtful and possibly vindictive pleasure, crawl across Franz' face. It was a disturbing expression on the man.

Franz nodded. "Then we should surround the city, and reverse the siege on them. They took the city. We'll see how long they can hold it."

**February 12th, 1984**

Nine days after his birthday, Edward strolled down a street in a little Xingese town, hair dyed black and pulled back, but not braided, in a much more Xingese style, with Winry and Al beside him. He had to avoid doing double-takes every time he looked at either of them. Neither had dyed their hair dark before, and he had to remember that when he looked for them. Alchemy did the job well. In Xingese attire, appropriate to their age, they could pass for citizens of the Xing Empire, as long as they claimed a Province that roughly matched the right look. Ren had suggested they pretend to be from Ruasan Province, which was far away to the south-east, nowhere near the areas they would be traveling through, and not densely populated. They also tended to be quiet and keep to themselves so the occasional traveler was a curiosity, but not known for making trouble. Mostly they were ignored beyond tourism. Also, their accent was not widely known, and they tended to speak slightly slower than other dialects, which helped with the fact that Winry was not as fluent a speaker as Al and Ed.

That worked perfectly to their advantage. Especially as they walked through the open-air market purchasing supplies they would need on their drive across the northern Provinces towards Tiahuan Province, which was almost directly north, and slightly east, of the Capitol City, with only a couple of smaller provinces between them.

::This is kind of nice,:: Al commented, smiling as he paid an old vegetable seller for some little onions and some mushrooms. They had left Will guarding the truck.

::We should take more vacations like this,:: Winry agreed, leaving out the fact that this particular trip was not a vacation. Practice at guarding their tongues had become habit over the last couple of days in the truck, when they had done their best to try and stay in their Xingese personas for at least several hours at a time.

::Preferably in warmer weather,:: Ed commented, not quite griping, but wishing that the Tiahuan could have chosen a warmer season for an insurrection. This northern part of Xing was almost as cold as Drachma. Thankfully, there wasn't snow, but the wet in the air did make his ports ache. One good thing about the cold though, no one commented about his wearing long pants, a long-sleeved coat, and gloves. He had gone for a more moderate black-and-brown. The goal was not to stand out here.

Especially when he remembered that somewhere around here, there were members of the Hashman Syndicate, and their associates. Half of the reason he had decided to come this way –something discussed only in the privacy of HQ— was the fact that they might get more information about their whereabouts and what they were up to by coming through this way and incognito. Attention would be on the large military force to the South, not on a small truck of elderly site-seers with apparently really bad timing.

Al picked up a newspaper at the next stand.

Ed itched to get his hands on it but he waited. They would have plenty of time to peruse it for information on the drive to the next village. They were not planning to stay long in any one spot. They did not want to be memorable. Still, he was dying for more information of what was going on down near the Capitol, and along the borders of Tiahuan and their neighboring provinces which, they were hearing babbled about everywhere, were being annexed, Tiahuan said, for the good of preserving Xingese culture and history. There was apparently a lot of rhetoric going around about saving the old ways and not driving Xing to its own demise.

Funny, Ed thought, given they were the ones employing new destructive technology to do so. Even wilder were the reports of what the rockets could do, and the rumors flying about what had happened to the Imperial family. Whoever had taken over the palace had not made any public statements in that regard; only that they were now in control and that the Imperial City was under new management, as was the empire. So far a lot of the Provinces had not reacted, or were in an outrage, but it was not an organized outrage… yet.

Most of the rumors put them as dead. Some hostages. There was one vague rumor that they were on trucks heading for Tiahuan instead of being kept captive in the palace. Who was where was not clear. The only thing they knew for certain was that Tao was alive, with his Generals, set up outside the city in a defensive position. There wasn't even word yet about the Amestrian military.

Ed supposed that was a good thing, since it meant that the Tiahuan either did not yet know, or were trying to quash information. In an empire as large as Xing, Ed knew that information control would be a very difficult game to play. He wasn't placing bets on the people in the palace.

::I think this will be more than plenty for a tasty dinner,:: Winry commented as they gathered up a few more supplies at another little market, and turned to head back up the street. They did have more than enough for a week of travel, now carefully tucked away though bought in small quantities so it would not appear that they were stocking up instead of planning a little meal in the kitchens common in many rental spaces here. Apparently cooking your own food on vacation was normal.

Ed found that convenient. ::Yes, let's. I can't wait to see what you do with this stuff.::

::Of course you can't,:: Winry smiled knowingly at him. ::These northern ingredients are said to have delicious flavor.::

* * *

><p>Michio was sweating heavily as he sat back, flat on his backside, and wiped the sweat from his forehead before it could turn to chill wetness in the cold winter air. He was grateful it wasn't snowing, but the cold plus his use of medicinal alchemy in this situation did take it out of him.<p>

His Uncle Mao was not faring well. Despite the days he had been held alive, healing was a slow process from the severity of wound he had suffered, and Michio was fully aware that most of what his healing attempts had done so far was control the fever somewhat and ward off any infections to the injuries. _Thank goodness for that, even so.  
><em>  
>Michio took a drink from the water bottle he had refilled that morning at a nearby fresh water spring that fed into the stream. Then he made a meal out of noodles he had just softened in water –an odd texture, especially cold- and a can of tiny Xingese mushrooms. He had managed to get several spoonfuls into Mao, but only when his uncle was conscious. He spent more time making sure his uncle drank any water Michio could get into him, aided him in moving out of the cave enough for any personal needs, and otherwise kept him warm and dry and as comfortable as it was possible to in the small cave.<p>

Unfortunately, it was getting colder, and he was no closer to getting real help. He had not been able to sneak back into the city in three days. Soon they would be out of food again. Michio wasn't looking forward to rationing that, but he could do without if he had to, as long as he kept his uncle alive until he could get him real help. Any attempts to solicit help on his visits had been met with suspicion, though not downright hostility.

Michio was beginning to think he was going to have to take more drastic action, and he was wishing he had chosen a little sooner to focus on the medical field. His original plans had been more towards philosophy and history, but he had learned alchemy, like his other siblings, almost as naturally as breathing. It was hard not to, living in a family with two alchemists for parents, and one of those a doctor who practiced alchemy on a daily basis. Still, he had never been as nearly-obsessed with it as Minxia had often been.

Minx. Michio knew his sister was somewhere to the East. He hoped, at least, that the Tiahuan had no idea that she was in the country. He was half afraid she would do something foolish instead of finding the first way out of Xing.

For drastic actions, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. Risking the city repeatedly would only get him noticed at some point, and it was not solving the problem. His uncle needed a real, more experienced doctor, and then he needed to be delivered safely somewhere before his survival was announced to the world.

That was, if he survived. Michio was not certain how long he could keep Mao going, given the slow progress regarding any healing, even with the alchemical boost. If his mother had been here, or Grandma Mei… maybe he could be saved. Any alkahestrist worth his practice should be able to do it. But if the Tiahuan were not fond of alchemists of any kind, Michio suspected they were all lying as low as he was, if they hadn't fled outright.

He might have fled towards the border himself, if he thought Mao could have managed any kind of trek. As it was, he was going to have to come up with a better plan, and soon.

* * *

><p>In the darkness, the convoy was only visible because it was parked under a streetlamp at the outer most edge of the village below. It was a deep-clouded night, with no stars or moon. Thankfully, it had not snowed or doused them in freezing rain. Which meant, Minxia hoped, that it was the perfect moment to attempt a rescue. After following cautiously behind the convoy for all of a day, she was sure that there were people in those trucks; at the very least one of them, but likely both.<p>

They had crossed into another Province, though Minxia could not entirely recall which it was on the map. She thought it might be Yao, but she couldn't be sure. At the moment it did not matter to her as long as it wasn't Tiahuan, though she did wonder at the route they were taking. It was not as direct as she might have expected. Perhaps that was because they expected pursuit along the shortest route.

"So when we go in, we slip around back, use a little alchemy on the locks, if it's necessary, and start moving people into the darkness and then around to the cart." It wouldn't do them any good if the enemy found out they had transportation, and followed them to it. _The enemy… I've never had one of those before._ Minxia shivered.

"It'll be all right," Thrakos assured her, one hand resting on her shoulder. "I can probably pick the locks if you can't get them open."

"You know how to pick a lock?" she turned and gave Thrakos a suspicious look.

"Of course I can," he replied with a shrug. "It's a skill I've had since high school."

"You can explain this to me later," Minxia replied—

-as an explosion went off below them.

Spinning around, Minxia almost fell out from behind the tree that hid them as she stared at the inferno that was all that remained of the first truck. "What the hell?"

Against the blaze, Minxia saw a silhouette, very briefly, of a woman that stumbled, stood up, and staggered into the trees as the men piled out of the cheap diner in which they had been eating –all but the two who had been sitting in the cabin of the truck that had just gone up. "We've got to get to her…" she started to slide down the hillside.

"Minx, wait!" Thrakos called, then she could hear him behind her. "The others!"

But the men were boiling out of the place now, shouting for water, a hose, anything, and they had surrounded the second truck, which had not been caught in the blast. One of them was hopping into the driver's seat as Minxia hit the ground and crouched in a bush. They were still forty yards away. No one had seen her, or Thrakos.

"We'll never get close," Thrakos whispered in her ear, one hand firmly grabbing her arm from behind as he caught up with her. "Let's go around and find the woman who escaped first."

Minxia swallowed. Her heart told her to rush out there and take them on, but Thrakos spoke sense. "Fine. Let's go." She slipped behind the nearest bush, and followed the local wildlife down out of the light and chaos, until the shouting started to die down, before she dared to dart across the road. Thrakos was right behind her.  
>Heart pounding, Minxia did not feel better as they made it into the bushes. Now they were on the side of the road the men were likely searching first. <em>Stay calm, Minx. This is an adventure… a real one… like the wreck… but without drowning and with a dozen or more guys who would be happy to shoot you on sight. Sure, no big deal. You're an Elric… <em>

"This way."

Minxia found her hand grabbed and Thrakos leading the way for several seconds, until she felt a twinge of annoyance. "I don't need to be led," she pulled her hand out of his. "You seem awfully calm you know."

"I got in trouble more than you did in school, remember?" Thrakos flashed her a mischievous grin that she could barely make out in the darkness. It was near perfect black under the trees. "Ah, here we are."

It took Minxia a moment to realize that Thrakos had found a small animal trail of some sort, though a couple of nearby branches looked as if they had been slammed through in a hurry. "Our trail. Let's find her." Whether it was Grandma Mei, Aunt Jiu, her cousin, or one of the wives, she'd be happy to see them. Minxia doubted it was either of her brothers' wives though. Neither would leave the children, no matter what.

Minxia swallowed, and took the risk of calling out in a voice not too much more than a whisper, and purposefully in Amestrian, as they moved away from the fire at the top of the ridge. "Grandma? Aunt Jiu? Meifen? It's Minx! Are you out here?" There was no way she was an imposter, not speaking in Amestrian all the way out here, and she knew her whole family understood the language well enough to get that much.

There was silence in the woods, except for the crashing in the distance that was slowly coming nearer, as the Tiahuan men stopped focusing entirely on the fire, and some started searching the brush.

They kept moving, and Minxia tried again. "Hello? Grandma? It's just me and my friend, Thrakos… remember the one I told you about? We heard what happened at the dig. Hello?"

The woman appeared in front of them so fast Minxia almost fell over in shock… as they almost ran her over! "Not so loud," the familiar voice of Grandma Mei said, even more quietly than Minxia had thought possible. "We must keep moving."

As she turned, Minxia could just see how awkwardly her grandmother was hobbling. For Mei to be moving so badly, she must be in bad shape. "Here," she hurried and ducked under her grandmother's arm. "We have a cart, back around to the North, with horses. Let's cut north-east, they'll never expect it since that's the way they're heading. We can cut across the road ahead of them while they're down here, and be at the cart before they ever think of looking south, since they saw you go this way."

"Not a bad plan," Thrakos commented as he came up on the other side of Mei. "Let me help, uh… ma'am…" he offered.

There was a harrumph from Grandma Mei, but she nodded. "Yes, thank you. I had hoped that I would have time to free the others, but they had me locked up alone, and they came out too quickly. Too quickly."

"It's not your fault, Grandma," Minxia replied as they did just what she had suggested, cutting sharply to the north-east, and she just prayed that she was right, and they were too busy looking the way they were sure Mei would have gone –back towards the last town, and the Imperial City- to realize they'd been duped. "Too bad they won't leave them unguarded now. Who's in the other truck?"

"Almost everyone, I believe," Mei replied as they limped along as quickly as she could manage. "They have Jiu, Meifen, Peina, and Xenia, as well as Taia and Bano. When they put us on the trucks, no one looked badly hurt, but in Peina's condition, they can't be treating her well enough."

"We'll keep following them," Thrakos suggested, and Minxia wanted to kiss him right there… but restrained herself. There would be time later. "There may still be another opportunity to free them."

Mei nodded. "Have you heard about anyone else?" Mei asked.

"Tao is alive," Minxia told her. "He's with the army, outside the city. They've grouped up there and I think they're going to try and retake the city."

"Of course they are," Mei replied, as if to think otherwise was ridiculous. "Good. What about Mao? Or Shan?"

"We've heard nothing other than rumors," Minxia replied, feeling a twinge of worry all over again. "Not that we get nearly enough of anything resembling news, and we haven't had much chance to listen to the radio the last couple of days, but I think if they had announced anyone was truly dead, it would have been all over the towns we've been through."

"True enough," Mei replied, and Minxia could see her grandmother's brow furrowing in the darkness, her eyes glinting slightly as they came up near the very edge of the farther side of the town. Minxia didn't even know its name. She wasn't sure she really ever wanted to at this point. It would be a place of memories she would probably rather forget later. "So we get to your cart, hide out until they are ready to move on, and make a move at the first available opportunity."

Thrakos snickered, and Minxia glanced over her grandmother's shoulders at him. "Sorry," he said. "It just reminds me of a conversation we had a couple of days ago."

"Does it now?" Mei glanced between them, and smiled.

The group stopped at the first large stand of bushes near the road outside the reach of any of the town's lights. Only when they had carefully staked it out did they dare to dart across. There was no way to see the trucks from this side –they were blocked by a low hill- but that was good for their escape even if not for their panicked curiosity that cried out to know if everyone else was all right. They were _right there_.

Minxia stifled her impatience, and slowly they made their way up the steeper hill on the south side, which was almost a cliff behind most of the town, and finally made it to where Minxia had tied the horses and cart earlier. Thankfully they were still there and unharmed. _Good, at least no one knows we're here._

"Can you see anything?" Minxia asked as Thrakos let go of Mei's arm and crept to the edge, to the trees they had been behind less than an hour before. She helped her grandmother get up into the cart, and get seated on the pile of blanket-covered straw they had in the back. They hadn't bothered with setting up tents tonight. Not when they anticipated needing to move quickly.

Thrakos nodded. "They've got the fire out. There are still about ten guys standing around, and a bunch of town's people it looks like. They're dressed a little differently. They're arguing about something but I can't quite make out what. They're not yelling loud enough."

Mei settled herself in the cart, and took the canteen of water Minxia offered, taking a long, slow drink. She seemed somehow tired all of a sudden, and old. Minxia knew her grandmother was old, but she was always so energetic –much like Grandpa Ed- that she never seemed as old to Minxia as she was. "They probably want the soldiers to get out of town," she commented softly. She winced.

"Are you all right?" Minxia felt guilty. She hadn't even stopped to see what wounds her grandmother had. What if they were serious?

Mei nodded. "I will be. They had me bound, for days. The pain is just feeling returning in my arms and legs…the usual aches that come with bouncing around an unpadded truck for days."

"Dehydration?" Minxia suggested as she watched Mei drain more of the water.

Mei nodded. "I was fed next to nothing, and not watered much more. They bound my hands and feet together behind my back. I am sure they did it out of fear. They saw what I am capable of." Her abilities were hardly a secret.

"If I may say so, they had a right to be," Thrakos commented as he pulled away from the edge and returned to the cart. "How did you blow it up if your hands and feet were bound? I thought you had to have a transmutation circle to do alchemy."

"Patience and timing," Mei replied. "I got my hands on a loose screw when I was bounced nearly on top of it last night as we stopped. I had plenty of time to work it loose and scratch out a small circle with it and my fingers. I don't even need to see the right circles to make things explode like that. I've drawn them enough."

"You're something else," Thrakos whistled.

Minxia grimaced. That was not how you talked to an Imperial Mother!

But to her surprise, her grandmother chuckled briefly. "Well it's nice to know my talents are appreciated."

"Is there any hope we can make another attack tonight?" Minxia asked abruptly, feeling her face warm in the cold night and wondering why Thrakos complimenting her _grandmother_ made her feel jealous. It wasn't as if Mei would ever have any designs on Minxia's boyfriend.

And that thought only made Minxia think of Thrakos' sort-of-a-proposal the other night, and her face was fully warm enough she was surprised she didn't glow in the dark.

At least her outburst got things back on track, even if the response was disappointing. Thrakos shook his head. "No. And I think we should move further down the hill if we don't want to be here when they decide this looks like a good spot to use as a vantage point, or remember that their escapee is brilliant."

"I see why you like him, Minxia," Grandma Mei commented even as Thrakos jumped to the front of the cart and untied the horses. "He's quite the flatterer."

"Grandma!"


	7. Chapter 7

**February 13****th****, 1984**

Shan Xian winced and forced his eyes open as he heard the crack of footsteps on the polished wood of the floor outside the door to his room; his prison really. He supposed he should be grateful that he had not been tossed in a cell when the Tiahuan soldiers stormed the palace and captured his family. The fighting had been fierce, frantic, and he even vaguely remembered his cousin Michio storming in from the street to try and help defend them, but Shan had been knocked unconscious in battle, and when he had awoken, he was chained hand and foot, with the ability to shuffle around the room in which he was kept -one of the interior soldier's quarters, a single room, well-appointed and not uncomfortable, but without a door onto any gardens. One entrance and exit, guarded by two well-armed men. Shan, unfortunately, was not an alchemist, and the room had immediately proved to be devoid of anything he could realistically use as a weapon.

The door opened, and Shan recognized the soldier who was carrying a tray which contained, he assumed, his breakfast. Shan bristled. He knew Chizan. They had trained together when Shan first joined the military. Chizan was only a little younger than he was, but he had been eager, worked hard, and proven to be one of the family's most loyal palace soldier guards.

Until now. Shan tried not to spit on Chizan's uniform as the tray was set down on the stand by his bed. Shan sat up, despite his shackles, refusing to be lying down with a potential threat in the room. It had been unimportant, until now, that Chizan was from Tiahuan. ::What do you want?::

::I bring your meal,:: Chizan replied stiffly. ::The sweet rice is particularly good this morning.::

Sweet rice, a favorite of Shan's. ::How can you do this, Chizan?:: Shan asked. It was the first time they had sent in someone he knew. It galled him in ways he had not expected. ::How can you betray us? How can you betray Meifen?:: Chizan had shown interest in Shan's little sister, and he knew his sister had recently begun to consider Chizan in another light. Their family had always been so much more flexible than most on relationships, that it had not seemed a problem. Not when Chizan was so highly honored and trustworthy.

Chizan cringed slightly at Shan's accusing tone, before he hid it again quickly. ::I am loyal to my family,:: he replied. ::I will not betray those I care for.::  
>Through the open door behind Chizan, Shan could see part of the backs of the heads, and shoulders, of the two guards at the door. They seemed to be listening. ::If Meifen could see you, she would be disgusted,:: he retorted. ::Why are the Tiahuan doing this?::<p>

::Meifen cannot see me,:: Chizan replied, and now his expression looked sour. ::She is no longer anywhere near. The Tiahuan wish to return Xing to its former glory, to return to more traditional ways.::

::Using new projectile explosives with liquid fuel? How traditional.::

::Some progress is necessary in order to move in any direction,:: Chizan repeated the rhetoric that Shan had heard from several of his guards. Though the wording was slightly different. The others had focused on the fact that it was a temporary shift. This statement made it sound very permanent. Shan did not think anything was going to truly revert, not in any way that would benefit Xing.

::Who says that?::

::Teno Tiahuan,:: Chizan replied. ::The leader speaks, and the people follow. Eat your food. I must get back to more important duties.:: He turned and left without another word. The guards closed the door behind him.

Shan reached out with his shackled hands for the spoon that stuck upright in the bowl of sweet rice. It was a good hot cereal, and he could smell the almond milk in it, and see berries. It really was good. His favorite in fact. That told him that the kitchen workers, at least, were still alive. The palace servants were probably all right so long as they were cooperating and keeping their heads down. That was good. Shan did not want them hurt on anyone's account. He would find his own way out of this.

Besides which, Chizan had given him several interesting pieces of information to work with. Teno Tiahuan was a Tiahuan General, and a preeminent member of their Provincial council. Not normally in the Imperial City, the man had retired from the military ten years previously, though Shan had seen him when he was younger. An imposing figure; strict and traditional, but always loyal to Xing… apparently not so much so to its Emperor.

Shan expected that Teno was the man in the throne room, whether he planned to make himself Emperor or not. Shan got no news locked away without the rest of his family.

Though he now had some news. Meifen, and likely others, had been taken from the palace as captives. If they had been dead, Chizan would have just said so. Of that, Shan was fairly certain. He was good at telling when Chizan was telling the truth, or when the man was lying. He had not lied today.

Which made Shan wonder if he could trust Chizan or not. It was possible that he was still loyal to the Xian family, and not the Tiahuan family. But could Shan trust him? Could Shan use him to get more information, and possibly to escape?

* * *

><p>::Retired General Teno Tiahuan has declared himself Emperor of Xing,:: Tao announced to the gathered group of Amestrian and Xingese military officers that were gathered around the table inside the command tent. His expression was bitter.<p>

Franz felt a bitter twist in his stomach as well. Traitors were bad. Military traitors were, in his mind, possibly worse. Defending the Empire and then turning around and taking it over. ::Has he made any announcements regarding the status of the Emperor? Because it's treason unless Mao is dead.:: Not that there was much difference here between a coup d'etat and treason. The whole situation was wrong.

::Only that he has my brother in the palace,:: Tao replied grimly. ::Shan is alive and held captive. No word on the others besides the rumors of a convoy with captives heading for Tiahuan Province. We sent some men after them with a truck, but have not had any luck. They did not take the expected route.::

::Then it's time to move ahead with our plan,:: Franz said firmly, looking down at the map on the table, showing the location of their forces, as well as where the Tiahuan forces were in and around the city. He did not think Tao would hold off to protect his brother. If he wasn't dead yet, then there was a reason for it.  
>Tao nodded. ::We have to retake the city. If Shan is alive, both he and I have legitimate claim to the Imperial Throne before he does. He either has to quell the entire empire with fear, or kill us all.::<p>

::Or convince you to abdicate,:: Ren commented. Franz knew that none of Ren's children held any claim to the throne. Part of the agreement, politically, of her marriage to Will had been that their children, while having citizenship in both countries, and recognized noble status within Xing, they had no claim at all to the throne, being half-Amestrian.

Right now, Franz thought that was a good thing. It meant they weren't out there head-hunting Michio and Minxia. It was possible they didn't know the two were in the country. A slim chance, but possible.

::That's not going to happen.:: Tao replied.

::Good,:: Cal Fischer spoke up. ::Then let's get set up for the first advance.::

Franz nodded. The first attack was going to be a little bit tricky. A feint, using alchemists primarily, but advancing like regular soldiers, to draw out the Tiahuan defenses and, hopefully, get an idea if their strategies for using alchemists against the rockets would be effective. It was a risky proposition but then, all of war was risky. ::Fischer, your unit will go with Xing Unit Four, and head around to the North. Closson, take your unit with Xing Unit Two, and go for the Southern gate.::

Cal and Tore nodded, and the two Xingese commanding officers of the named units nodded as well; Sring and Lios were both the equivalent of Brigadier Generals in the Xing army and experienced in battling small border insurrections. This would be a new concept, but given the number of experienced officers that the Tiahuan had targeted in their initial attack who were in the city, the less experienced had no choice but to step up and lead well. A siege was new for them.

::We will begin at oh-nine-hundred-hours,:: Tao agreed. ::Let us hope we can do some damage to their long-range capabilities, or it will be very difficult to retake the city.::

::But not impossible,:: General Quixong commented gruffly. The grizzled general was one of the most experienced military leaders in the room, and Franz had worked with him extensively to codify plans and make sure that their forces could work together. The Xing were proud, and Franz did not want there to be dissonance between the two groups of soldiers because Amestris had come to their aid. They were selling it to the troops, honestly enough, as Amestris paying back their debt of honor for when Xing had sent assistance during the Drachman War.

::We will succeed,:: Franz added. ::There is no alternative.:: As much as his own personal interests in this, aside from helping family, involved finding out what the Hashman Syndicate had to do with the Tiahuan coup, he had to focus on the important things first. His personal goals would have to wait.

* * *

><p>Ted swallowed a drink of water from his canteen, trying to pretend it was just a dry mouth and not nerves. His whole year had been assigned to Shock's unit of alchemists for this initial attack. So he, Clarina, Vera, and Larry stood together, the majority of the alchemist team heading for the Southern gate. While Ted had no problem being under Tore Closson's command, he felt a little stung that their team wasn't going to be hitting the larger forces at the northern walls, where they had not yet rebuilt and so had most of the army. A good amount of their forces remained just inside the walls, only letting in the few business traders brave enough –or desperate enough- to bring their goods. Allies and military transport were almost all that seemed to move in or out of the city these days.<p>

"I hope you're on your feet today, Proteus," Larry commented.

"I'm not the one with rocks for feet, Tremor," Ted grinned. "Try and keep up."

"You boys," Vera shook her head. Her short, stylish dark hair seemed out of place above the full military uniform. Not that Clarina, with her sweet face and pale blond hair looked any more militant. Both girls were, in Ted's estimation, far too pretty to be soldiers. That didn't make their skills any less effective however.

"I'm better with rocks than he is," Clarina pointed out with a soft smile.

Ted felt flustered for a moment. He grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, well… your touch is far more refined. You make art. He just makes messes."

"Enough chatter," Tore strode up to them, looking far more serious than he ever did at home, even at HQ.

Normally, Ted thought, they weren't standing on a battle field. Most alchemist missions were not of this scale. "Yes, Shock, Sir," he said in near unison with the rest of his squad. He wasn't Uncle Tore here.

The Shock Alchemist nodded briskly. "Remember the plan. The soldiers are the bait. The goal is to lure out soldiers, or get them to fire their rockets. In either case, defend the soldiers and destroy your targets. Avoid diverting them if possible. We don't want to take out any civilians if we can avoid it. Remember, there are several million people still living within the walls, despite those who fled in the first attack.

"We understand, Sir," Larry replied, all-business. "Any other orders?"

Shock nodded. "Just the standard State Alchemist Order: Don't die."

Ted couldn't resist a smug grin. "We'll do our best, Shock."

"Your best had better be good enough then. All right, let's move out." Then Tore turned and headed towards the waiting Xingese soldiers.

Ted shared a meaningful exchange of glances with his teammates. They had trained together to be able to work independently, or as a full team, and now it was time to see how well it paid off.

* * *

><p>"When we get there, you break off with your guards," Cal explained to Ren as they approached the northern wall from West. The regiment of the Xing army going with them had marched north well out of reach of even the rockets that were behind the walls before turning east. Now, they would form up and use similar tactics as that further south; draw out their firepower or their men. In either case they had a chance of achieving objectives; weakening the enemy, assessing their strength, and learning more about how to make the Tiahuan weapons less of an advantage for the enemy. "While we've got everyone distracted, you shouldn't have much trouble getting around to those hiding spots you mentioned in the woods. Search them and come home safe though, or Will will kill me."<p>

"Oh no. He might kill you, but you might wish he had," Ren agreed with a ghost of a smile on her lips. One that barely hit the worry in her eyes.

"Just take care of yourself." Cal resisted the urge to hug his sister-in-law, but he did rest a hand briefly on her shoulder. "And let's see how many people we can rescue today."

* * *

><p>Michio had no idea which side was winning when he heard the explosions start in the distance, but he knew what they meant. The military was attacking the Tiahuan insurgents and trying to take back the city.<p>

However, given the distance, and general direction, it seemed the perfect cover for getting his uncle out of the cave and away from the city without being captured. If he could just get to the next town to the West, he was sure he could find his uncle a more experienced doctor.

So he packed what supplies they had left in the backpack and put it on, then helped Mao to his feet. The regular healing sessions had at least done enough that the wound did not break open. ::Are you sure you can handle this?:: he asked his uncle, concerned at Mao's expression of pain.

The Emperor of Xing nodded. ::If I can't handle this, then how am I going to save my empire?::

::Fair enough.:: Michio couldn't manage a smile, but he gave his uncle an extra boost to make sure that he had a firm grip and Mao wouldn't fall down if he tripped. Then, slowly, they left the cave.

They couldn't creep along the woods like that, but Michio followed the deep gauge of the stream bed instead. It was not a deep stream this time of year, but nearly empty, with plenty of sand-and-rock along the edges that made it possible to travel for some distance without coming up above the embankments. They couldn't be seen unless someone happened to come to the gully and look down. Given the fighting wasn't around here, and marching across it wasn't possible at this location, Michio did not expect to stumble upon too many enemy soldiers.

Thankfully, his intuition seemed to be right, given he had no tactical military experience whatsoever; just generations of family stories that he wished he had paid a little more attention to. His only fighting skills were from sparring with family members. Those, he hoped he would not have to test out too soon.

It was slow going, even with the relatively even path they were able to follow, and the fact they could move upright. Michio tried not to jar Mao too often. While the other man never complained, Michio knew that he was in no real condition to be doing this. Still, there was no other real choice.

The sounds continued, first west of them, then south as the stream bed wound along, even under the road. Michio paused there, under the bridge, for several minutes while he and Mao shared some water and a rest. In the deep shadows, any sounds they might make hidden by the small waterfall there, Michio listened, trying to determine who was winning. The distinct sound of alchemical transformations told him that alchemists had entered the fray. Given how long it had been, he suspected they might well be Amestrian alchemists.

The urge to go look was powerful, but Michio refused to indulge his curiosity. If they were Amestrian alchemists, and in combat, they weren't healers, and taking Mao towards the lines on the side of the enemy was sheer foolishness.

After half an hour, he got them both back on their feet, and kept moving west. Though the sounds gave him a slightly lighter heart. If they could get past the Tiahuan lines, eventually they might be able to cut south –if Mao held out- and not only find healers, but people he knew.

* * *

><p><em>This is not my idea of a good time.<em> Ted Elric dodged explosive dirt, dropped to the ground, and transmuted, sending a solid block of near-brick hardened earth up into the air, where it met with a projectile explosive that went off over two hundred feet above their heads. It was a small explosive, which meant that the concussion wave only knocked people off their feet, but did no other real damage. It was loud though. _By the time we get out of here, I may have lousy enough hearing that the nightclubs don't seem so bad._

Beside him, hiding behind an alchemically created earthen berm thick enough to stop enemy gunfire, cannon fire, and tank rounds, Larry was using similar tactics to stop the explosive-tipped rockets –small ones- that the enemy kept shooting out their way. _They haven't pulled out the big guns. None of the city-levelers. Why not? We'd be easy pickings. _

Or perhaps not, he thought, as he watched Larry take another small one out of the sky. The things were limited in number, and expensive. Their factory was days away, even at the fastest mode of travel.

Vera and Clarina were also tucked safely behind the berm, using their talents to push back the enemy as well as taking out weapons. They had taken turns making sure that any kind of ballistic weapon was destroyed immediately, or diverted back in the direction of the enemy. The second was harder, so it was something they clearly needed more practice with. Clarina's skills with stone sculpting proved useful. Each of her own rock projectiles was rifled and shaped so that it flew with more accuracy than most, and hit with great impact. She was the most successful so far at diverting anything backwards.

Vera's abilities with off-spectrum light-waves proved useful as she used microwaves in tight concentration to cook off explosives in mid-air. With her dark hair sticking up in odd angles from all the explosions, and a bruise on her cheek from flying debris, she looked like the wild heroine of one of Grandpa Ed's books. Or at least, a book that she ought to be in.

"Head's up!" came the cry, and Ted turned his face back to the fray in time to toss a blast of pure energy induced air circulation into the next round of projectiles. While the individual rock method was working, he wondered if air movement based attacks might help deal with more than one at a time.

As three exploded over head, raining hot shrapnel and sending people diving for cover or protecting themselves with alchemy, Ted decided that particular method might need to be used further in advance-

-before things exploded on top of their heads!


	8. Chapter 8

**February 13****th****, 1984 (Continued)**

"The Generals' campfire has got to be the most boring place to be on the battlefront," Cal sighed as he sipped from the cup of –admittedly excellent- Xingese oolong he had been handed by one of Tao's personal aids.

"I'll take this over explosives trying to drive metal into me from above," Tore replied, taking his own cup of tea with a nod of thanks. The bandage on his cheek was testament enough to the fact that at the southern gate, the fighting had been intense. It had been worse at the north, with Cal's men. "We didn't take an inch of ground today."

"It's a good thing that wasn't our primary objective then," Franz commented from his folding chair on the other side of the fire, next to Tao. "We proved that most of the techniques we came up with are reasonably effective."

"Against their smaller munitions," Tore pointed out, scowling into the flames. He blew on his cup several times before taking a sip. "They haven't hit us with any of the big stuff you talked about," he glanced at Tao.

"Leveling the military would turn more of the country against them than declaring a new Emperor prematurely has," Tao explained in Amestrian. He had switched into it this evening, possibly for practice, or likely because the average soldiers would not be able to eavesdrop effectively. In either case, Cal hadn't asked. "They need to convince the military to stand down or give up. They know we will try to minimize civilian casualties. They attacked without impunity. The people know they mean business. It is a difficult balance to maintain."

"If we take too long, they gain more control, but push too hard and we take out the people we're trying to protect." Cal didn't like the sound of that one bit.

"Eventually a decision will have to be made. Sooner is better," Franz replied, and Cal couldn't help but scowl at the cool levelness of his tone. It wasn't like Franz to talk so casually of deciding the balance of people's lives.

At least, it hadn't been before. Cal was beginning to wonder what this war had wakened in Franz. He had wondered a little ever since the man insisted on taking the mission. He had seemed mostly his quiet, friendly self since Sara's death, though less prone to smile or laugh.

A buzz in the camp alerted them to Ren's return.

"Any luck?" Cal asked Ren, glad for the distraction from his other thoughts. From her expression he knew better than to expect a positive response.

Ren shook her head as she dropped into a chair that an aide immediately set up next to Tao. The man bowed as deeply to Ren as he would Tao, and then offered her a cup of tea. She took it with a quiet thanks, ignored his insistence that no thanks was required, and took a long, slow sip. "We were able to locate and access four of the points I remember. They were all completely unused, covered in dust. It's good because it means they haven't been discovered by the Tiahuan. They may be useful to us later."

"But they don't help us find anyone else," Franz nodded. "I'm sorry, Ren."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Ren replied. "We will keep fighting. I will keep searching. Eventually I believe we will find a clue, or family, hiding out in one of these locations." There was no room for failure in her tone.  
><em><br>Once an Imperial Princess… _Cal shook his head, and sipped his tea again. He had meant what he said earlier. When he, and Tore for that matter, had just been run-of-the-mill State Alchemists –as much as that was possible- a night around the fire with the men, if combat was not expected the next morning, would involve camaraderie, bad jokes, dirty stories about beautiful women, a few likely-illegal shots of something strong to drink. _And here I am sipping tea with royalty. Alyse is better suited for that than I am._ And he had never been more grateful his wife wasn't anywhere nearby. Not in this situation. It was far too dangerous.

"We will try the same tactic tomorrow," Franz spoke up again. "Except that we need to push them harder, and I want a small unit in the north to hang back, hit the flank, and try and cut off the train lines from the North."

This was not a surprise, not entirely. It was part of the discussed strategy. What surprised Cal was the fact that it had moved up, quite a bit, from the original timeline. "So soon?" he asked. "We weren't going to try and cut off their supplies for another couple of days. What about continuing to weaken the line?"

"I don't believe we have that luxury," Franz replied flatly, his expression one that offered no room for argument. While Cal would usually argue with anyone, he had seen eyes like those before, on other men.

"Then we make the push tomorrow," Cal nodded. "I'll tell the Second Brigade they're on it tomorrow."

"Good." That seemed to be the end of that discussion, as Franz went back to his key, and looking thoughtfully into the fire.

Everyone grew pensively quiet, wrapped in their own thoughts.

Once again, Cal wished he could be down the hill, getting drunk at a fire and telling stories about how much more amazing his girl was than anyone else's. _I'd win that contest, too._

* * *

><p>"Are you all right, Ed?"<p>

Ed, who was finally getting a turn riding shot-gun, and Al was stuck in the back seat with Will while Winry drove, looked up and nodded. He took his arm away from his aching shoulder. "Yeah. I'm fine." He had anticipated the aches and pains that came with colder weather. Especially wet weather. Resembool was kinder on him than the north of Xing was proving to be. Despite a supply of medicine should he need it, he still found it difficult to get moving in the morning, or when they were sitting for long periods of time in the truck, moving slowly east. "I could go for a soak in a good hot spring though, if there's one in the next town."

Northern Xing was littered with bath houses built around the hot springs common in the more mountainous region. They had not stopped at many, mostly because of where they stopped for the night, but Ed was beginning to think it might be worth it to make an exception. He knew Al and Winry were feeling the cold too, even though they never complained. He still caught Al stretching more than necessary, or Winry rubbing her hands a little. None of them were young.

"According to the map, the next town is Carros," Will said from the back seat. "It's supposed to be a resort town, with several bath houses, some sort of gambling establishment, and we'll be crossing over into Setuan Province, which borders Tiahuan on the west side."

"Sounds like a good place to stop and see if we can get information," Al commented agreeably. "That close to Tiahuan, in a tourist town, we might get lucky."

Ed nodded, watching the snow-covered landscape roll by outside. There was at least three inches on the ground, though the road was well traveled and plowed. Ed had to hand it to the folks up here, they knew how to deal with the weather. "Sounds like the kind of place you might find Hashman Syndicate guys on their day off… or working underhanded deals."

"The casino?" said Winry.

Ed nodded. "Exactly. Though I think only a couple of us should go in. As long as we act like tourists, we shouldn't draw much suspicion. But I know you don't like casinos."

Winry smiled, though she did not take her eyes from the road. "You're too kind."

After the last time the two of them had gone undercover in a casino, Ed couldn't imagine making Winry deal with something like that. Of course, this time, she was the elderly wife of an elderly man; not pretending to be somebody's bomb-shell girlfriend. "I think Will and I should go," Ed said, giving it some thought. "We'll hit the Casino. Al can sniff around the stores and the market, see what kind of black market deals go on in this town, and see who works them."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Winry asked.

"Well, since I suspect you'll refuse to enjoy the hot baths while we're working," Ed smirked, "I thought you could dip an ear into the local gossip and find out what's actually in the news right now. You know how women like to talk."

"I can do that," Winry nodded, smiling. "I'm good at weaseling information out of people without them realizing we're doing anything more than talking over a cup of tea."

"That's why that's your assignment," Ed replied.

"My assignment?"

"It's a mission, even if it's not a military one," Ed pointed out with a shrug. He caved and began to rub his aching shoulder again. "You could call us mercenaries I suppose."

Except we're not getting paid for this," Will chortled. "We're doing it for the good of mankind."

"Too bad there's no profit in it."

"Really, Ed," Al shook his head, and Ed caught it in the mirror. "Why do we care if there's profit?"

"We don't," Ed replied. "I just wanted something to take my mind off how much I hurt, and how much I want a nice big meal I didn't cook myself."  
>That got a laugh from everyone in the truck.<p>

* * *

><p>The town of Carros was more of a small city. Or at least, it would have been in Amestris. The larger population of Xing made it 'just' a town. But quite the tourist town, even in the winter. This time of year, Alphonse suspected, it was because of the hot springs and the casinos. It certainly wasn't the weather.<p>

And, it might be the food, he had to admit after they had gotten settled in one of the hotels attached to a hot spring bath house, and partaken of a large meal in the dining room. The food this far north was rich, hearty, filling, and delicious. It was far different from the lighter fare Al was used to tasting further south, or at home, whenever Ren cooked for them all.

Afterwards, they indulged in a soak in the baths. Ed was slightly disgruntled by the fact that they were traditional baths, split by gender, which meant Winry was bathing separately from him. Al just shrugged. ::You're the only one here who even gets to complain,:: he pointed out. ::Get over it.::

Ed had grumbled until they were all in the water. Having arrived at the right time to have dinner and hit the baths while most folks were out seeing the sites or at the casino, for the moment they had the huge hot spring to themselves, and Al sank down until only his head was above water, and leaned back against the rocks. After days driving from town to town -and a couple of nights sleeping the truck- it was heaven to just let the hot water ease the cold and ache out of his muscles. Al closed his eyes, and sighed in contentment.

::We should sight-see tomorrow,:: Will commented drowsily from off to his right.

::This might just be better than my hot tub back home,:: Ed said from Al's left, where the corner of the spring allowed him to be caddy-corner, and they could converse in a small group without talking over distance. ::It may need a few modifications.::

::I'll help you make them,:: Will chuckled.

For a few moments, it felt like they were actually on vacation. Too bad that wasn't the case, but Al had learned to enjoy life's little pleasures, no matter the circumstances under which they had them. He and Ed had spent years on missions, in combat, at war. That had not kept them from living life along the way.

He peaked a look at Ed, whose eyes were also closed, his head leaned back so far he almost looked asleep. It occurred to Al that this would not have been possible decades ago. Ed's new auto-mail, far better insulated thanks to improvements in technology and a very thin coating, did not gather heat the way the original ones had, so while Al was sure the metal was getting warm, it wasn't going to burn Ed. _So much has changed. I almost forget he's still got metal limbs. _They were just Ed's limbs. _That bothered me so much as a boy. But it just doesn't matter anymore, to either of us. _In time, it seemed anything could be accepted. It was good to see Ed enjoying the heat, which had to be even more beneficial to him than it was for Al. Despite his grumbling, Al knew that Ed wasn't complaining nearly as much as he deserved to. When the pain was really bad, Ed shut up about it.

In fact, Ed looked so relaxed at the moment, Al feared he might have fallen asleep. ::Ed?::

::I'm alive,:: Ed replied, opening his eyes. ::Just enjoying the moment. I haven't felt this good since we left home.::

::Me neither,:: Al admitted.

::If I admit the same does that make me an old man?:: Will asked with a chuckle –

-that stopped abruptly as Ed and Al both shoved his head briefly under water.

* * *

><p>Winry shook her head as she heard splashing on the other side of the huge wooden wall that separated the men and women's baths. She managed not to sigh, and pushed a strand of dyed-black hair back up on top of the pile she had pinned on her head. <em>Those boys… goofing off instead of just enjoying the heat.<em>

::My my, sounds like there's some rowdy fellows staying tonight,:: one of the other women –there were only two- commented from several feet away. She looked to be about fifteen or twenty years younger than Winry, though that still made her old enough that her hair was going gray-white at the temples, despite still being mostly black. ::I hope they aren't from one of the Universities.::

Winry shook her head and chuckled. ::No, actually, I believe that would be my _distinguished_ husband and brother-in-law.::

The woman gave her a look, then laughed. ::They never do grow up do they?::

::No, not a bit,:: Winry agreed, smiling. ::Are you here with anyone?:: she asked conversationally.

::My son,:: the woman replied. ::He allows me to accompany him on his business trips, so that I won't be stuck home by myself. He's a good, devoted boy. Knows his place. And I enjoy getting to stay in places like these,:: she added with a coy look.

Winry nodded. ::I could definitely get used to this. We saved up for quite a while for this vacation actually. What does your son do?::

::He's a businessman,:: the other woman replied with a distinct note of pride in her voice. ::International trade in various commodities. Oh, I don't follow all of it, but he provides more than well enough. He's here to meet one of his most important clients, so of course I don't get to go to the meetings. But we'll be going out for dinner tomorrow evening at the best place in town. He's told me all about it.::

International trade… important clients, in the middle of a coup. Winry nodded sympathetically. ::He sounds like a very devoted son, and a hard worker. I am impressed he continues to meet given the current troubles.::

The woman smiled. ::Oh, I shouldn't tell you this, but I think Ven's current deal will help resolve the conflicts to the south. I heard him mention on the phone that this deal will help bring things to a peaceful conclusion soon.:: She sounded so very proud.

Winry wished she could run and find Ed… now. But she might never get this close to a useful source again. She hadn't expected to find gossip useful this fast. ::That would be wonderful,:: she replied, sounding as enthusiastic and impressed as she could realistically manage without going overboard. ::And don't worry, I won't spread it around. I wouldn't want to hurt his business.::

::Thank you, dear,:: the woman's smile grew. ::Oh, but where are my manners, I haven't introduced myself, though you may have guessed by now since I've mentioned my son. I am Lina Tihan.::

Tihan… one of the familial branches of the Tiahuan. ::Your son is _that_ Ven Tihan?:: Winry pretended to look impressed. ::My cousin does business, but locally. He's talked about your son's talents.::

The woman looked inordinately pleased. ::How excellent! What is your name?::

::Kumi Akano,:: Winry gave a pseudonym, the one she had been using intermittently on their mission so far, as needed. She had avoided giving a name as much as possible. It was best not to be too memorable, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

::The Akanos!:: the woman nodded as if she should know that name. ::I have heard of your family. It is an honor.::

::The honor is mine,:: Winry replied. _Now let's see just how much more you can tell me._

* * *

><p>They had followed the convoy –now down to one large truck and the couple of smaller vehicles that were Tiahuan soldiers—for another day, though it had left later the next morning than they had feared it might, and had not moved as fast, thanks to some damage the car nearest to it had suffered thanks to explosive debris. So in keeping well behind on the road, they had managed to follow –risky thought it was— until the truck headed into the next town, where –unfortunately—they stopped at the doors of the nearby garrison, and were let inside a gated compound after only a few minutes.<p>

::We should find someplace to sleep tonight,:: Minxia mused as she and Thrakos walked back to where they had left Mei in the cart. She was far too recognizable to just walk into town. And while her appearance might stir things up, chances were the news wouldn't travel far enough or fast enough for it to do much good. That and they were likely to be outnumbered. If the local garrison was on the side of Tiahuan Clan, than they would be in a lot of trouble if they were discovered. ::But I really don't want to sleep out in the cold.::

::It's not good for your grandmother either,:: Thrakos pointed out with a nod. ::For all her healing abilities, she's been through a lot lately. The cold isn't helping. I know she doesn't complain, but you can see she's hurting.::

::I know,:: Minxia snapped, though she felt immediately sorry for it. ::I'm sorry. I just mean I can tell. I didn't mean to growl at you. I don't know what's wrong with me.::

::You're worried about your family, tired, cold, stressed, and you've never done anything like this before. It's okay.:: Thrakos put his arm around her.

Minxia snuggled into it instinctively. ::You would think I would be enjoying this adventure more, but I just want it to end…preferably with everyone safe.::

::It'll be fine,:: Thrakos assured her, even though he didn't sound completely convinced. ::But I think we're going to need more help.::

::Who do you think we should ask?: Minxia said as they slipped into the copse of trees on the edge of town where the cart was waiting.

::I have been considering the same thing,:: Grandma Mei said from her spot curled up under blankets on the hay in the cart. ::I believe we need to stop following the convoy.::

::What!:: Minxia stared at her grandmother. ::Are you nuts?::

::Minx!:: Thrakos looked startled, and Minxia felt that twinge of annoyance again. She was getting tired of Thrakos treating her grandmother like some revered goddess, even if she did love her grandmother.

::I think the people who might help us are not too far away,:: Mei continued, unruffled. ::But we need to take a detour further east.::

Minxia tried to think about where they were, without a map in front of her. It wasn't too easy. ::But… that's Yao land!:: Yao and Chan…and Yao and Xian, had been at odds for generations.

Thrakos looked puzzled.

Mei nodded. ::It is, and last I heard, Ling Yao still lives, and has been recovering well. If the reports are to be believed, despite his age –like mine- he may be the assistance we need. Yao has no love for Tiahuan, and is not weak, despite the last decades of trouble. For a chance at redemption, I believe them more likely to side with us than with the Tiahuan Clan.::

::And if they don't?:: Minxia asked.

::Then we are no worse off,:: Mei replied. ::I do not believe they would turn us over either way. But I am rarely wrong. Let us at least make the attempt. After all, we were the ones who eventually let Ling Yao go, restored his son to him, and did our best to restore his sanity despite his imprisonment. He was never abused.::

::Very well,:: Minxia nodded. ::It shall be as you say grandmother. We will go East. How far away is the Yao capitol city?::

::Only a day or two by car, too far by horse,:: Mei replied. ::I believe we will need to find the use of a better vehicle.::

::I am sure I can find a place for the horses in town,:: Thrakos commented, ::Though a car might be harder to come by. Is there no other way?::

::Country roads will get us there in a day and a half,:: Mei replied, though she did not look best pleased to be considering the rougher terrain in winter.

::We can make that,:: Minxia sighed. She didn't like the idea either. ::We can make the way easier. I can always use alchemy where needed to clear or smooth the roads. We will be fine. Though we should get more winter supplies, and restock our food, before we attempt it.::

::With what funds?:: Thrakos asked. ::No offense, but this far out, I don't think Imperial credit is a good idea, or much good.::

::I still have a little,:: Minxia dug into her pockets, and pulled out her quickly thinning pocket book. ::It will have to do.::

::I'll handle purchases.:: Thrakos took the money before Minxia could object. ::You rest here, stay warm, and let me handle things.:: A familiar smug grin came across his face. ::I'm quite the haggler.::


	9. Chapter 9

**February 14****th****, 1984**

Some days Edward was sure Winry had some of the best luck he had ever known. When she had cornered him back in their room the night before, he and Al had hardly been able to believe their good fortune. In fact, he had been rather suspicious that this might be a set-up, except that all the facts seemed to check out. And since there was supposed to be a meeting at the casino, he decided that was a safe enough place to show up and see what he could discover, as planned. Only instead of just getting a feel for the place and who was in town, he and Will already had a more specific agenda in mind.

Ed tried not to feel the edge of his battle-reflexes as he tried to pretend to be just a really old guy on vacation and walked casually into the casino with Will. _Relax, let the ache in your limbs show in your movements. If you look infirm, no one will take you as a threat._ But that was hard, after decades of never showing weakness.

He continued to look around casually, as if deciding what to hit first, and said to Will, ::So, where do we want to put our money first?::

Will looked around thoughtfully. ::We could try the card tables,:: he suggested.

Ed managed not to laugh. Now was not the time to make full use of his card shark skills, but at least he wouldn't look a complete fool their either, and it wasn't as random as slot machines. He disliked random chance. ::Sure, why not?::

Really, they had decided this particular maneuver ahead of time. The card tables were, unsurprisingly, in a quieter area of the casino, and nearer the private rooms where big-stakes games –or secret meetings- tended to happen. Any major business meeting happening in this building would probably happen in one of those. Ed did not think he'd be lucky enough to get himself invited in to one of those games, but it was still the best place to stake out what was going on and find a way to eavesdrop on the conversation if at all possible. If this guy was doing business with the Hashman Syndicate –which it rather sounded like- than it might be the key they were looking for as to whether the Syndicate was taking advantage of the situation in Xing, or if they had helped cause it, or if they might not just be behind it, given their hatred of alchemists, and the Xingese heavy use of alkahestry.

It was such a puzzle…an international mystery. _And people try to tell me I'm retired… hah._

They had purposefully arrived over an hour before Ven's scheduled meeting, so there would be no apparent connection. They had come in, right behind several other people, and so it was not hard to slot into the next game setting up at one of the tables, toss a little money in to play, and blend in to the crowd.

Will was a decent card player, but Ed was better, and they made a decent balance. Will lost two games and then sat out, saying he'd watch a master at work instead, with a bit of a laugh. Ed managed to win about three-quarters of the time, but he had to purposefully throw one game, and he honestly lost two, so people were willing to keep playing him. Still, he was raking in a good amount of money. It would certainly cover their expenses for a while, and who knew how long they would actually be undercover in Xing. Even if they learned a lot today, they still had to get to, and take out, what was likely to be a large, heavily guarded, industrial site. And that might not deal with the scientists who had developed the technology in the first place.

He caught a nod from Will when Ven –whom they had identified last night speaking with his mother in the lobby of the place where they were staying- strolled in, looking serious in a very modern, very stylish –if Xingese in fashion- business suit. He arrived, nodded to one of the casino employees, and was almost immediately met by a man who Ed had mentally noted as one of the managers just by watching him work earlier. The manager escorted him to a room off to Ed's right, which Ed could see in his peripheral and Will, from his seat, had a fairly clear view of without having to turn.

As the game ended and some of the players stepped out, there was a momentary lull, and Ed took the opportunity to excuse himself to use the men's room nearby.

Inside, he ducked into a stall, and transmuted a tiny tube-like tunnel through the thick bricks of the wall, around the corner, and right into the room in question, though he brought it out down near the floor in the corner. He couldn't see anything, but he immediately heard voices…and they did not seem to have noticed his little trick.

::-seeing me this afternoon,:: a male voice was saying.

::The Clan wishes to see our mutual benefits continue,:: Ven replied, then got right to the point. ::You are here to broker a deal for more of our projectiles.::

::And not those little ones you sent us last time,:: the other man replied. His accent was not great, and Ed would have bet anything the guy was actually Amestrian.

:They won't be enough for our plans.::

::Your petty political vengeances are not our problem,:: Ven said. ::However, if you have the funds, than we can negotiate.::

::Right here.:: Ed heard what sounded like a briefcase clicking open. He could visualize a case full of money. ::Now, can we talk?::

::I believe we can come to an agreement,:: Ven replied. ::But I cannot make too many promises. We need the majority of our ordinance in the fight here as we work to consolidate our new empirical rule.::

::Our targets are smaller than yours,:: the Syndicate man replied. ::Hashman doesn't wish to rule a country, merely to make a point… permanently.::

Ed didn't like the sound of that. What was their target? His first thought was Central, but he might be jumping to conclusions. The Hashman Syndicate operated in four countries now, though their base was somewhere around here instead of Drachma, Amestris, or Aerugo. Still, he couldn't help but think that the target must be in Amestris.

::Your point will be memorable, if nothing else,:: Ven said. Papers ruffled. A chair creaked. ::Hashman overreaches his abilities, but your services have been profitable and your assistance valuable. Here is our offer." Something swished, paper sliding across a table. ::I think you will find it most amenable and more than fair compensation for the safe use of our lands as well as the discounted prices on our mutual goods.::

A minute passed and Ed surmised the other man was reading the proposed deal over carefully, looking for any signs of a trick, loopholes, foul play, or anything else that might make it a bad deal. Apparently he didn't find anything. ::It looks fair enough,:: he agreed finally. ::How soon can they be delivered?::

::You can come to the factory in Rixaun and pick them up yourself in two weeks.::

::Two weeks!::

::That is when they will be available, unless you'd like to haul unstable explosives half way across a continent,:: Ven replied evenly. Nothing much seemed to bother him.

::Two weeks is fine,:: the Syndicate man agreed, sounding only mildly sullen. Ed wondered if it was clear to Ven, who could see the man. Ed doubted that his face betrayed his feelings as much as his voice. ::We will be there. How is the situation in Imperial City?::

::Moving according to plan,:: Ven replied. ::We hold the city, and the Palace. (name) has declared himself with minimal fuss. Tao Xian's men, even with help from those Amestrian dogs, have not manage to breach the walls or retake anything. It's ridiculous for them to think they have a chance, but then no one has ever blamed either group of common sense.::

::And the prisoners?::

::On their way to Tiuan. Their existence will be announced once they are safely behind bars in our highest security prison. If the existence of hostages will be a useful ploy, than surely the whole family will work wonders, though it has been traditional merely to kill off all family members of an overthrown Emperor.::

::Is Mao actually dead?::

::Of course he's dead,:: Ven snapped. ::Don't be foolish. They wouldn't be fighting so desperately if they had him. He would have declared himself or they would have insisted they have him. The sons are weaker than the father. They haven't even had the gaul to lie about his life. Mao is dead, and with him, this corrupted empire.::

::Fair enough,:: the other man didn't sound so sure, but there was no further argument. ::Two weeks. I need to report in.::

Chairs scraped on the floor as both men stood up.

::They will be ready on time,:: Ven replied, though he did not sound like he felt the need to really reassure the man of anything. It was clear who was on top, at least between these two in this given situation. Ed wondered if the Hashman Syndicate was using the Tiahuan Clan, or if they were mutually using each other. It sounded, from this, like the Syndicate wasn't nearly as in control of the situation as they wanted to be.

It was also interesting to know that they thought Mao was dead. Not because they had killed him, but because Tao hadn't tried to claim his father was alive. Which meant they didn't have Mao either. If they had killed him, they would have announced it. If they knew he was dead, or captured, they would have said so.

_They don't know what happened to Mao._

As minor a detail as it might seem, it set Ed's mental gears spinning. No one knew if Mao was alive or not. That meant he wasn't captured, and no one could verify if he had been killed. While Ed didn't think Mao would have willingly gone into hiding if he were in good health, it meant that while he was probably injured, possibly severely, he was still very possibly alive.

He had to get news to the military. Mao may not be dead...and the Syndicate had plans for a target that they planned to blow, probably in Amestris.

Ed waited until he heard nothing more on the other room, then he undid his transmutation, waited another minute, then he left the men's room and returned to the card table.

In the several minutes he had been gone, Will had managed to win one, lose one, and otherwise not draw much attention to himself.

::I think I'm ready to try another game,:: Ed told Will casually.

::You took long enough,:: Will griped. ::Might as well. I'm not winning much at this one anyway.::

Will finished up the current game, bowed out with his winnings, and Ed collected his own winnings and they headed towards the other side of the casino. Not that they stayed long. There was no reason to do so. Instead, they wandered through the slots, cut back down another aisle, and left the casino about ten minutes after the conversation had ended.

Ed didn't try to fill Will in on what he had heard while they were on the street. It was too much sensitive information. Instead they pretend to bicker about where to eat that night, how much Winry was -theoretically- spending on frivolous women's things on this vacation, and various other inane topics.

He hoped Al and Winry had also had a productive afternoon, information-wise. Al was supposed to be trying to locate the Syndicate headquarters. Now, the name Ed had gotten was useful, because he now had a city name for their destination. He knew where the factory was: Rixaun. He also knew for sure that members of the Imperial family were alive, and where they were being taken. Ed wanted to find a map and see how far away both locations were, and how far apart they were.

When they got back to their hotel, Al and Winry were both there, sitting in one of the private tea rooms that could be reserved for afternoon sitting and contemplation. They knelt on cushions, between them a low, square table with black lacquered edges. Sipping tea, they looked very much like older, traditional Xingese citizens.

::You look chilled,:: Winry commented. ::Have some tea.::

::Don't mind if I do,:: Will grinned as he settled down on the third side of the table, dropping easily into the sitting position.

::What are we having today?:: Ed asked. He liked tea, though years of military life had gotten him used to coffee. Both were still preferable over the taste of milk, though he had found ways to get enough of that into his diet without curling his tongue.

::Spiced Green Tea,:: Al said, smiling. ::It's a local blend, and it really warms you up.::

::Sounds good.:: Ed took the fourth seat, though he sat cross-legged instead of kneeling. The kneeling hurt if he did it too long on his auto-mail leg. He took the fourth cup, sniffed, and sipped. The sweet, pungent blend of spices did not overwhelm the green flavor, but complimented it nicely. There was a natural sweetness to it as well. ::So, did either of you find out anything?:: he asked without preamble.

Al nodded his head. ::Not much, but I followed a couple of leads. It looks like there are several members of the Hashman Syndicate here. They use the town as a base for their interactions with Tiahuan Clan, though their stronghold seems to be somewhere outside the city, to the north.::

::Of course to the north,:: Ed grumbled. Sure, let's make things colder. ::No specific location?::

::Not by name. Apparently it's an old border fort that's not been used in over forty years. It is, however, along an old rail line that hasn't been used much in recent years either, but it's in decent repair.::

::We were discussing that it's probably how they're getting back and forth across this part of the continent without being obvious to the local population, and how they got away from Drachma so quickly,:: Winry added. ::Once they crossed the desert, which is much narrower up this far, it wouldn't be difficult to use the tracks. They could run people, and goods, back and forth.::

::And weapons.:: Ed nodded. ::Well we know where they are, we can pass that information on to Military Intelligence.::

::We're not going up there?:: Will asked, looking mildly surprised.

::What good would it do right now?:: Al asked his son in a reasonable tone. ::We have a mission to see through first. We have to destroy that munitions factory and see if we can find a way to deal with the scientists who discovered how to build rockets here, and look at their research.::

::And we have to rescue family,:: Ed added with a look at Will. ::I heard quite a bit in the casino.:: With that, Ed launched into a detailed retelling of the conversation, along with a summary of his preliminary observations and likely conclusions regarding what he had just found out.

::We do have to rescue them,:: Winry nodded emphatically when Ed was done. ::Whoever is there, we can't just leave them captured. Who knows how long it will be before they decide they really are expedient after all.::

::They have to be planning to use them as leverage to convince Tao to back off,:: Ed said. ::The only reason they've held off this long is to make sure that they can't be easily rescued, which would defeat the point of having them at all.::

::Do you think they would really let them go if Tao surrendered?:: Winry asked.

::Not a chance,:: Will said almost at the same time as Al shook his head and Ed snorted at the possibility.

::They can't let the previous dynasty live,:: Ed explained simply. ::There will always be people who preferred the old way, and those who are loyal to them for other reasons. There will be questions of rights and succession. You remember what the Empire was like when we were kids. Before the old Emperor died, everything here was in constant chaos. There was no trade between the countries most of the time because of all the little internal clan wars. If the Tiahuan succeed, Xing will return to that chaos, or be split into more than one country again, possibly dozens, also likely to go to war again, trying to conquer each other, or just defend their own territory. Mao has held a more coherent Xing together for longer than any other emperor in over ten generations, possibly longer.::

::And he may not be dead.:: Al had looked relieved at that part of Ed's news. ::Which means we can still keep Xing from completely falling apart, or the Tiahuan from carving out their own empire. We just need to rally enough allies against them.::

::That's what Tao needs to do, with Franz' help,:: Ed corrected. ::We'll do our part. Then, we will do everything else we can. But we can't expect to take down an entire coup on our own.::

::Are you sure you're feeling all right?:: Winry asked. ::I don't think I've heard a reasonable statement like that out of you in years. At least not where combat is related.::

Ed managed to keep his annoyance to mild disgruntlement. ::It's a fact,:: he shrugged. ::Even if Al and I were still in our thirties I wouldn't take all these guys on. This is about stealth, and precision. We can't realistically take on an army with rocket-propelled explosives with just the four of us.::

::Oh I agree completely, it's just an interesting change.:: Winry took another calm sip of tea.

::I thought it might be nice to come back alive.::

Al chuckled. ::On that we can all agree.::

**February 15****th****, 1984**

Ren was beginning to think that her search might be in vain. Not that she was normally a defeatist attitude person, but she had been systematically searching each of the secret locations her family had planned out in case of emergencies like this one. She, and her two chosen personal guards, had slunk cautiously from one to the next, making it to two or three of the spots before moving back to the safety of Tao's lines.

Her hand-picked personal guard consisted of James Heimler and Jean "Havoc" Stevens. James had seemed surprised to be chosen, but Ren hoped that having someone from investigations would actually be helpful with this part of the investigation. She knew what she was looking for, and where to go, but if they needed to follow trails, she was not as experienced a tracker as she suddenly wished. Both of the men she had chosen she knew she could absolutely rely on, and while neither of them was Xingese, that didn't matter. There was no way they were Tiahuan spies, and they were family friends. It made her feel better to have them with her as she exposed long-held family secrets. James and Jean would never talk.

At least, not about secrets. They did chat when it was safe about Jean's wife and kids, and James talked about his sister's family, or Krista. He talked a _lot_ about Krista. Ren pretended she wasn't listening when James would go off on long litanies of her qualities and talk about the time they spent together, and how she was finally showing interest in him as more than a friend… but she heard every word, and smiled to herself. Youthful romance was a wonderful thing. Inevitably it would take her mind back to thoughts of meeting Will in college, when Ethan had first introduced her to his charming –if slightly shaggy at the time- cousin, the philosopher and alchemist. Ren had not given much thought to love before that point. She had been too focused on her studies. That was what had brought her to Amestris… new knowledge and perspective. And in turn, it had given her a most wonderful gift; a man and a family she loved as much as that in which she had grown up.

The family she now hoped desperately to save. It was hard to remember some days, even to herself, that she was a princess of Xing. She no longer had any right to the throne, but that did not change things as much as it might seem. Her childhood, her teenage years, had been here, in the very city whose outskirts she now skulked, praying to find that her older brother –the Emperor himself- was still alive, somewhere. Or her mother… she couldn't not accept that Mei Xian would be dead after one attack after so many years dodging assassins and scraping her way up from being one of the many princes and princesses vying for the throne, to the Empress of Xing.

_You had better not be dead, Mao_, her thoughts went back to her brother. Not as Emperor, but as the brother she had grown up loving; serious when he had to be, but intelligent, clever, handsome, and just as capable of goofing around in private as any other man she had ever known. He was such a loving father to his children, and husband to Jiu, and he had been a wonderful brother, despite the large age gap between them.

::Hey, Aunt Ren, look at this!::

Ren shook herself out of her reverie. They had come, at last, the long way around the city to the north-east woods, looking for a place she had played with her brother when they were children, and she in turn had shown her own children where it was. It was a good, safe place, and one that was not officially one of their secret escapes, but it was well hidden, and it had occurred to Ren that any member of her family would know it as well as the others. ::What is it?:: She came around the corner in the deep gully, edging the stream bed, and coming into view of the well-hidden cave she remembered, though it was even more grown-over. The entrance was nearly invisible from the ground level, there was no way they would see it from the top.

::Signs,:: Jean Stevens suggested as he followed her.

::Well, a few,:: James replied, poking his head out of the hidden opening. ::There was someone here, and less than a day or two ago judging by the scrapes in the sand, and the lingering scent of cold food.::

::You can smell cold food?:: Ren asked dubiously.

::I'm a guy.:: James shrugged and nodded. ::Come in here, and see if you can help me figure out who it was.::

Ren determined that it was pointless to remind him that this was technically her investigation. She just went in, while Jean lurked in the entrance, but under the overhang so they were all invisible to prying eyes outside. She looked around at the floor of sand, and the markings. ::Two sets of foot prints,:: she said after a minute. ::They're wearing different shoes. These… these are Xing make,:: she tapped one set. ::They look like the inside shoes we had at the palace. Judging by the food size…. Male almost certainly. None of the ladies in the family have feet that big.:: Which could mean Tao had been here at one point, but unlikely. That left Mao or Shan. Ren's heart fluttered.

::The other pair aren't Xingese,:: James commented, sounding slightly excited. ::They've got the logo branded right in the sole. You can see they're Amestrian.::

Ren nodded. She recognized the brand in fact, and the size. ::Michio!:: She was almost certain of it. Her son had likely been in here, with a member of the family. _Leave it to him to try and rescue everyone._ He wasn't even that much of a fighter, but he had apparently succeeded, unless he was the injured one… that thought dampened her momentary joy. ::There's dried blood in the sand,:: she noted.

::The Xingese family member, I think,:: James said after several long seconds. ::At least judging by the way the footprints are around the bottom of the scuffles in the sand. The blood makes it look like…::

::A gut or side wound.:: Ren's stomach clenched slightly. Someone needed healing, and she wasn't there. ::They can't have left long ago.::

::One, maybe two days,:: James concluded. ::Though it doesn't look like signs of struggle, so I would think it's pretty safe to say that they left on their own. Probably to find help, and medical attention.::

::Just a minute.:: Ren squatted down in the sand, sketched out a quick circle, and then placed her hand on it, allowing it to glow briefly as she simply felt the area for alchemical residue (or at least, that was how she considered the tiny changes in the flow of chi that sometimes could be found for short periods, or any other clues. There… there it was…. And if she was not mistaken, the flow of alchemy had been used for healing. ::I think Michio is all right,:: she said. ::None of the other men in the family are alkahestrists.:: But which way had they gone?

Ren hurried back to the entrance, past Jean, and looked at the rock and sand along the stream. There were, much to her momentary dismay and frustration, no obvious signs of passage. _But there really shouldn't be. If there were, than they would be easy to follow._ ::I think they probably went west,:: she said after thinking hard about what her son would do in this situation. ::East would only take them in the direction of potential Tiahuan convoys. West they might break out past them.::

James nodded. ::I'm beginning to think you picked me just to be nice,:: he commented, but he was smiling as he said it. ::I agree that's probably the direction they went.::

::Then let's head that way,:: Jean suggested. ::It's the faster way back to camp as well, if we don't get stuck near the combat zone.::

::We'll have to go around,:: Ren sighed. ::For now, let's follow the stream. Down here, we are less likely to be spotted.:: Though if they were, she didn't want to fight her way out of there while they were getting shot at.


	10. Chapter 10

**February 15****th****, 1984 (Still)**

::I can't believe we made it,:: Minxia commented, feeling only a slight bit of relief as she looked down the hill at the Yao Provincial Capital below her. They had made it to their destination, and in surprisingly good time considering the roads, and the cold, but now that they were here, she could only hope that the Yao were not inclined to side with Tiahuan, and that they wouldn't simply be captured and handed over to the enemy. _Come on, Minx. We've got to trust someone, and Grandma says this is where we need to go._ ::I hope you're right about this, Grandma.::

::Me too,:: Mei replied from the cart bed. It distress Minxia to see her grandmother look at all frail, but it had struck her the past couple of days, just how old her grandparents all were. ::Let's go have a talk with Ling Yao.::

::I hope he's not as crazy as I've heard,:: Thrakos commented quietly to Minxia from the driver's seat of the cart as they made their way down the hill openly.  
>Given the political situation, Minxia was surprised that they weren't stopped on the road in, but she did notice that at the entrance to the low walled town, there were gates, and those gates had guards. As they neared, Grandma Mei insisted on pausing long enough for her to get up into the front of the cart with Thrakos and Minxia, so they were all riding together, and she could sit up with a more commanding presence, or at least more dignified.<p>

::What is your business?:: One of the guards asked as they came up to the open gates.

::We have urgent business with Shirong Yao,:: Grandma Mei said in her 'no nonsense' voice. ::Regarding the uprising in the Imperial City.::  
>That got the attention of both guards, who gave them even harder looks. ::Declare yourselves.::<p>

::I am Mei Xian, Imperial Mother, former Empress of Xing, recent captive of Tiahuan. The Tiahuan Clan has committed the highest treason, and I come seeking sanctuary and offering council. This is my honored Granddaughter, Minxia Xian Elric, and Thrakos Argyros.::

All three names got minor starts out of the guards, who looked them over, but apparently could see no reason to disbelieve them. After all, Minxia was obviously mixed blood, and Thrakos clearly Cretan. If they did not recognize Mei, they would have to be crazy.

One of the guards went into the little guard post in the wall and, Minxia presumed, called his superiors. It was several minutes before he returned. ::Your escort is on the way. You will be taken to the Provincial Estate.::

::Thank you,:: Mei replied with only a slight incline of her head. An appropriate thank you that did not put her beneath the citizens of the Empire. Minxia watched, taking note of each subtle thing her Grandmother did. It was impressive and made her feel -despite her international travels and city-childhood - rather inexperienced.

So they waited, with Grandma sitting as if they had all the time in the world, looking patient and in control of the situation, all while sitting on the old dented wooden seat of a farm wagon. Thrakos, clearly less patient, took a few minutes to check the horses and their harness over. Minxia sat, trying to appear as calm as Mei.

Finally, an escort of eight armored men arrived. _I wonder if that's an honor guard or a prison guard. _

::If you will please come with us,:: the head guard -who was differentiated by having a plume on his helmet- said respectfully, and inclined his head as appropriately due the Imperial family. The rest stood at attention.

::Of course, Captain,:: Mei replied with all respect. She stepped down from the cart with surprising ease, and came up with Minxia and Thrakos. ::If one of your men will please see to these fine animals. They have done more in service to the Empire in recent days than many we used to call allies.::

That got a blink and then a, ::We will see to it, Your Grace.::

It was a quiet evening. The streets held few people as they were led through them, though a few curious faces peered out through windows. Minxia had never been to this part of Xing before, and she couldn't help but notice the subtle differences in architecture, the tendency for colored lacquers and not just black. Some of the wood was stained in shades she had not seen before, and the walls were thicker. More of the buildings this far north had a much sturdier construction, and fewer screen walls. She could see why, as much snow as she had been forced to deal with the past couple of days. A fresh fall had dropped three inches on their travels, and the town had a festive air. Though that might be Minxia's own childhood memories. In Amestris, snow and the winter season holidays went hand in hand, if they got it at all. While the holidays were well over, the snow still reminded her of home. For the first time in a very long time, Minxia felt homesick.

Thrakos gave her hand a squeeze. Minxia looked up and smiled at the understanding on his face. They didn't have to say a word, but she knew he had read her feelings, if not her thoughts. She missed him when they were apart. His offer from a few days before came to mind. She wanted to spend her life with him… but was she ready to give up her dream to stay in one place? Once they settled, it would be difficult to continue her work, especially after they had children… whenever that was. Minxia's insides fluttered at the thought.

She didn't have much more time to dwell on the future, as they approached a large manor house that bordered on being a small palace. The dark green roof poked out of the snow at the bottom edges.

They were escorted indoors, and a wash of warmth such as she hadn't felt in over a week met Minxia at the entrance. They were led down dark-wood floored hallways until the guards slid open a door to their right, and led them into a room which contained only a tea table, a pot and cups, and not much else.

::There are dry robes in the closet.:: One guard stepped over to a wall and opened it. Minxia saw house robes hanging, and towels on a shelf. ::You are requested to make yourselves comfortable. Your host will be with you shortly.::

Interesting that they did not say who that was.

::Thank you,:: Mei said to the men. Once they were alone they shed their coats, and wet shoes, and put on robes of appropriate sizes and house-slippers that were warm and comfortable. Minxia hadn't realized just how frigid her feet had gotten. She chose a robe of purple, with white-and-black reed-and-cranes all over it. Grandma Mei took one in red, with white flower blossoms. Thrakos fit one that was deep green with scrolling gold dragons.

When their host had not yet appeared, they knelt down around the tea table. ::Is it appropriate to drink without the host?:: Thrakos asked, as he shifted, not accustomed to the position. He was big enough that Minxia expected he found it uncomfortable. His feet would fall asleep quickly.

::In these circumstances, we are not expected to stand on ceremony,:: Mei replied. ::Though if we wait a moment, I expect things will be tended to appropriately.::  
>Almost as if she could read the minds of the staff, a servant opened the door, nodded as if she had expected them to be dressed by now, and knelt down to pour them each a steaming cup of tea. It was a dark, spicy brew, that nipped at Minxia's nose even before they picked them up to drink.<p>

Mei was served first, and gave a sip, then a nod of approval. The servant then served the rest of them, bowed, and exited. ::See?:: Mei smiled. ::They still know how to do things properly here.::

They spent several minutes in relative silence. Outside the room, Minxia could hear slippered feet moving down the hall in measured but quick steps… servants most likely. Outside the window on the exterior wall, snow was falling on top of the existing white, burying a garden with a tiny stone pagoda, a bridge, and a frozen pond.  
>Slower, measured, almost halting steps paused outside. The door opened, and Minxia looked up to see a very old man. <em>That's not Shirong Yao<em>. He was too old, though he looked even older than his age. Years had worn him down, and he was rail thin, though he held himself with a quiet composure, belied by a spark of life in his eyes. His mouth looked like it wanted to quirk up into a smug grin, though it remained a thin line. Once, it had probably done that often.

To her surprise, Grandma Mei stood slowly, and held out her hands to the man. ::Ling Yao, thank you for your hospitality.::

Thrakos' mouth fell slightly open. Minxia hoped she looked less startled.

This man did not look insane. Nor did he look like someone who would have led an attack on Amestris. He had been behind the war that Aunt Sara and Uncle Franz had met during… the capture and torture of Grandpa Ed and Jean Havoc.

Ling Yao extended his hands, and bowed as fully as he could manage. ::I see you, Mei Chan… Xian. You honor my house such as it has not been in far too long.::

::It makes me joyful to see you restored,:: Mei replied as Ling straightened again slowly, and took her hands. ::You were long lost.::

::I have too good a memory to forget,:: Ling admitted. ::While I cannot remember everything, I know that your kindness was more than I deserved. You and Edward Elric even restored my son to me. These past fourteen years have been a new life. I know that it was best how things turned out for Xing. There is no way we would turn you away, or your family.:: He looked past Mei at Minxia, then gave Thrakos a curious look. ::Though your arrival is unexpected. My son will join us when he has finished business. Until then, I hope you will accept me as a reasonable host.::

::Of course.:: Mei gestured to the table. ::Please join us.::

Unaided, if slowly, Ling lowered himself to the fourth seat with aged dignity. ::This is my favorite tea,:: he commented as Minxia took it upon herself to quickly pour him a cup. He looked at Minxia then, with surprisingly intense eyes. ::You are Renxiang's daughter.::  
>Minxia nodded. ::Yes.::<p>

::I had heard she married into the Elric family. My son keeps me apprised of much of what I have missed. You are quite lovely.::

::Thank you.:: Minxia tried not to feel flustered. She had no idea where the conversation was going.

Then he looked at Thrakos. ::I did not expect the son of the President of Creta in my house. It is an unexpected honor. You would be the husband then.::  
>Thrakos' cheeks flushed slightly. ::Actually, no. We're-::<p>

::Engaged,:: Minxia blurted out before Thrakos could finish the statement, drawing Ling Yao's attention back to her. She was sure that her own cheeks were blushing slightly, though her complexion was less prone to it than some. ::We're engaged. He came with me to Xing because I was working at an archeological dig... until we heard about the coup.::

A humorous little smile spread across Ling's face. ::I see. Well, congratulations. You are fortunate to have found a man worthy of a noble house of Xing.::

::Thank you, sir,:: Thrakos replied, though he looked unsure how to take the comment. He also kept giving Minxia confused sideways glances when Ling wasn't looking. Minxia ignored the curious expression on her Grandmother's face as well. _We'll talk later,_ Minxia thought, wishing sometimes that Thrakos really could read her thoughts.

Ling broke the moment, thankfully, by turning his attention fully back to Grandma Mei. ::Now, you were captured by Tiahuan soldiers. How did you escape? Who is still captured?::

Minxia was relieved, and happy to let Mei explain everything that had transpired in the past few days. It felt like much longer.

::So any help that Yao would offer would be beyond our measure in thanks,:: Mei finally finished. ::Time is falling away quickly. If they cross into Tiahuan Province without being stopped, it will require military action to get them out again, and right now the majority of our military forces are on the other side of the Imperial City, dealing with the coup and trying to retake the city.::

::Of that I have been well apprised,:: Ling replied. ::While I will not speak for my son, I do not imagine you will find Shiro at all unsympathetic. His time working at the monastery made my son a wise and compassionate man. I admit they raised him better than I could have.::

::We have no comparison for that,:: a voice said from the door. Minxia looked up again and saw Shirong Yao standing in the entrance. ::Please, remain comfortable,:: the man said, joining them around the table with younger ease. ::It gives me much relief to see you alive,:: he said to Mei. ::And pains me to hear of the treason of Tiahuan. There have been skirmishes on their borders with other Provinces the past couple of days. They seem to wish to consolidate their hold on the lands between their Province and the Imperial City. Thankfully they have not yet turned their full attention to Yao. We are already mustering our Provincial guard to defend our border. It is not large, as most of our warriors have been sent to Imperial City for service these many years, but what forces we have are available to you if there is better purpose; as long as it does not leave us open to attack. I must protect those who cannot protect themselves.::

::Of course,:: Mei replied with an understanding nod. ::This will be an extension of that, if anything. We need a small, fast moving unit if we are to have any hope of rescuing my granddaughter, granddaughters-in-law, and great-grandchildren. We should leave at once.::

::Surely you do not intend to go yourself,:: Shirong said, clearly taken aback.

::Do you have anyone of my experience?:: Mei asked flatly. ::I am not only a healer, Shirong.::

::Fair enough,:: he admitted begrudgingly. ::But you are important. Your survival and freedom will stir even more the blood of Xing to rally to Tao. They feel defeated because they believe most of your family dead. Stay here, remain safe, and allow us to announce your freedom and survival. It will be a blow against Tiahuan.::  
>Minxia liked that idea better. Not that she intended to stay behind, but Grandma had not fared as well as she was pretending out in the cold. Charging fully into combat again seemed foolish at her age. ::I think that sounds like a good idea,:: she spoke up.<p>

::Wise girl,:: Ling smiled approvingly. ::You are too important to risk further, Mei. Surely you see that.::

Mei sighed, and took a sip of tea. ::I understand your concerns, and while I do not like remaining here, I hear the wisdom in your suggestion. Very well then, I will remain here… for now. Do not, however, mention Minxia or Thrakos in your announcement. Make it seem I escaped myself. Do not give the enemy more information than they need. Let rumors be spread.:: She looked sharply at Minxia. ::You must bring them back. Both of you.:: That hard look went to Thrakos, who nodded once, and said nothing else.

::We will, Grandmother,:: Minxia replied, trying to sound sure of herself, when she suddenly felt less sure than before. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily upon her. They couldn't afford to fail. If they did, both their family, and their Empire, would be lost.

* * *

><p>They were given rooms in the guest wing of the Yao Estate, very nicely appointed ones that bordered on palatial. Thrakos was impressed. It seemed that most of the noble houses of Xing lived as well -or better- than his own family. Better, he admitted, since his family was not into opulence. Still, he was used to living well, and after weeks at the dig site and the past week trekking through the wilderness.<p>

They were given time to bathe before they would be joining Shirong's whole family for dinner. Thrakos' room was to the right of Minxia's, which was to the right of Mei's. He felt a twinge of regret, a small one, that he wasn't sharing a room with Minxia. She had surprised the heck out of him during their conversation with Ling and Shirong Yao. Engaged? Did that mean she had decided to accept his proposal now… finally? Or was she just trying to save face? She had avoided the topic ever since the night he had brought it up, and he had been wondering if she had forgotten, or if she was finding a way to tell him no. He had no doubts that she loved him, but he knew how much she loved what she did as well. The last thing Thrakos wanted to do was make her feel torn, but they had been together for years, despite months apart at a time. He wanted something decided.

And now apparently a decision had been made in her head without him. At least, he hoped so. He just had to know for certain. When he finished bathing, he dressed in the clean clothes provided by Yao attendants -modern if conservative Xing attire- and went to knock on Minxia's door. ::Hey, Minx,:: he called out. ::It's me.::

The door opened, and for a moment he lost the ability to speak. Minxia stood there, hair down and still damp but half-dry from washing, wrapped in the robe from earlier, but clearly not dressed yet otherwise. She looked beautiful, somehow almost more striking than in the nude. The way the fabric hugged her curves. ::You can come in,:: she said after a moment.

Thrakos followed her in, then closed the door behind him and turned to face her. ::We need to talk. Did you mean what you said earlier?:: he asked without waiting for a response to his first declaration.

He didn't have to say what he meant. Her face flushed subtly. ::I love you,:: she said after a moment, her eyes meeting his. ::I know we don't spend nearly as much time together as we'd both like, and I know that a lot of that is my fault. I'm always traveling. That's why I asked you to come with me. Only… I didn't expect our trip to turn into a life or death battle.::

::Most people don't,:: Thrakos chuckled, moving in close. Minxia did not resist as he pulled her close in a hug. ::And you're a free spirit. It's one of the things I find most endearing about you.::

::You've waited so patiently for me,:: Minxia hugged him back tightly. ::When we get out of this… if we get out of it… I want us to go home, and get married, and I'll find something to do that I enjoy that doesn't involve running off to the opposite side of the continent without you all the time.::

::From now on, we only adventure together?:: He kissed her gently. ::Then let me try this again.:: He tipped her chin up lightly with one finger. ::Minxia Elric, will you do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband?::

She smiled. ::I wouldn't have it any other way.:: Then she kissed him again, and Thrakos put thoughts of where they were, everything that was happening, out of his mind. He pulled her against him, wondering absently how much time alone they had before they might be interrupted. The kiss deepened and he let his hands wander down, to the small of her back. His fingers caught in the tie of her robe. She felt so warm… so alive. So enticing…

A sharp knock at the door broke the moment.

Minxia broke the kiss, though her expression looked as disappointed as his. ::What is it?:: she called out.

::Dinner is in ten minutes,:: came the sound of a servant's voice.

::Thank you,:: Minxia replied. When the footsteps moved away, she looked back up at Thrakos who hoped, for a brief moment, that ten minutes was all they needed. ::I should finish getting dressed,:: she said, though Thrakos thought he heard regret in her voice.

::Right.:: Thrakos sighed, then he smiled and stepped back, his hands lingering briefly around her waist. ::Can't have you running around in that where others can see you.::

Minxia chuckled, then poked him in the chest with one finger. ::Don't get too possessive on me yet. We still have to get through all this.::

::I know.:: Thrakos had no intention of letting anything happen to either of them. Not now. ::I'll let you change. See you at dinner.:: As he left, he wondered where in the city he could find a ring.

* * *

><p>The fire in the darkness chased the cold back, but not far, and not for long. Roy watched the fire and drank from the cup of strong dark tea, ignoring the lingering ache in his recently healed arm. The fighting today had been particularly rough, especially since he was with Fischer's unit fighting the main chunk of the forces at the north end of the city. They had almost managed to get to the walls, but it had been difficult, and costly. He had been fortunate enough to avoid the explosion near him that had taken out four of Tao's men, though he had gotten a shrapnel slash to his left triceps. He was grateful for the alchemical doctors with Tao's army. The cut would have been a couple of weeks in healing, and his arm longer for recuperation and strengthening afterwards without the healing assistance. Now it still ached, but the arm was useable immediately.<p>

It didn't stop him from wishing he could spend the evening snuggled up at home on the couch with Trisha, or that there was something to spike the tea with. He had never been particularly fond of tea, even though this was better than most, which made it tolerable. _Who ever heard of an army that doesn't drink coffee?  
><em>  
>Across from him, his father-in-law was staring down at a stack of notes on his lap, working even though it was well past dinner and he had ordered everyone else to rest and take a little time for themselves tonight, before combat resumed in the morning. Which it would, because the plan was to push as hard as they could. The tactics were working reasonably well at deflecting the smaller rockets they had been hit with so far, as long as they managed to hit them. If not, the results were devastatingly effective.<p>

Retaking the city was going to take a long time at this rate. Which was, of course, why Franz Heimler had his nose buried in his work, despite the hour. He refused to take breaks, working with an almost feverish fury at all hours. Having never worked directly under his command, Roy had always thought of him as Trisha's Dad and, after that, his father-in-law. Watching him be "the General" particular under warfare conditions, was a new experience, and somewhat disconcerting. He had never really thought of Franz as a warrior, despite knowing he had been a regular enlisted soldier before going officer.

Franz' tactics were not the conservative ones he might have imagined. While he wasn't ruthless, he was calculating, determined, and not afraid of necessary risks. He made use of the alchemists with no hesitation, trusting them to hold themselves in check as needed, or do what needed to be done. He wasn't rushing, but somehow he still felt like he was in a hurry, particularly outside of combat.

Roy knew where Franz really wanted to be. Pushing the Tiahuan back… and finding the Hashman Syndicate members who were here somewhere.

"You wanted something?"

Roy hadn't realized how openly he was watching, until Franz looked back at him, the firelight reflecting in his glasses.

"Wondering something," Roy admitted instead, glad they were alone.

"Well, what is it?"  
><em><br>If I don't come back, Trish, it'll be because your father killed me for impertinence._ "Why are you doing this?" Roy asked, making himself look Franz in the eyes. "You've never taken lead of a battlefield situation before, and you practically shoved your way into this one. It… it feels to me like you're not here just because of this. I don't think you have ulterior motives but…"

"You want to know if this is a revenge trip."

Well, at least he hadn't had to say it. "Yeah. I do."

Franz didn't look away. "I want the Hashman Syndicate destroyed. I want them to pay for what they've done in Amestris, and elsewhere, for the state alchemists they've killed, and the innocents they've harmed trying to meet their own vendettas. And yes, that includes Sara's murder. They have to be stopped. They're involved in this civil war in Xing too, and that affects more of our family just as directly. But it's also about saving the Empire and keeping it from falling back into the chaos it was in when I was a boy, and when I enlisted. All of this needs to be done. It's for the betterment of the world around us. If it allows me to get revenge on Sara's killers at the same time, well that's just that much better for me. However, it doesn't mean I'm going to risk other people just to get what I want. If I have to let them walk away… well I'll go after them when it's all over instead. Sara would never forgive me if I let anyone get killed just to bring her murderers to justice."

"I never thought you had this kind of thing in you," Roy admitted after several moments absorbing everything he had just heard. "I mean, I'm impressed, but you're a much more aggressive General than I expected."

"If Belle were still here… I probably wouldn't be," Franz took off his glasses, cleaning them on a scrap of cloth from his pocket. "But she's not, and the men on the other side of this fight will be very sorry they messed with us."

Roy nodded. He couldn't say this hadn't changed him either. He still remembered the threats he had leveled at Hashman himself, and how coldly he had managed to pull off that bluff. If he had actually had to do the things he had insinuated, he would have been equally guilty of cruel and unusual forms of torture. "We'll make them pay," he agreed quietly. "I just had to know where you stood… mentally."

"I understand," Franz replied. "And if you ever see me doing something irrational, or ordering people to do something Sara would never allow… stop me, by whatever means necessary. This isn't worth doing if I'm not better than they are in the end."  
><em><br>That_ he could live with. "I can do that."


	11. Chapter 11

**February 18****th****, 1984**

The back yard glimmered rosy and lavender as the setting sun hit the frosty crust of snow that had fallen that morning, coating the yard and fence in an uneven layer of white that glistened in the last rays of evening.

"Ethan?"

Ethan turned away from the long windows that lined the living room wall, and looked at Lia. "Hrm?"

"You're lost again."

"Sorry," he gave her a small smile. "I was thinking."

"I know. You've been doing a lot of it." She stepped closer and rested a hand on his arm. "Dinner's almost ready. You might want to change."

"What, my lab coat isn't good enough to eat in?"

That got a smile out of her. "It's also not appropriate for tonight's concert."

"I know." Ethan hadn't been intending to go to Lily and Eamon's band concert in his work clothes, but it had been a long, difficult day, and each day he heard nothing useful out of Xing was another day of frustration. Not that he had expected personal calls, but even being a son of Edward Elric wasn't enough for him to get much of any news from the military. Not when most of the family was actually in Xing, and therefore unavailable to give him news from the day by phone or over an evening meal.

"So go get ready," Lia almost pushed him towards the stairs.

She was trying to distract him. Ethan smiled and went to find something appropriate to wear. He could hear Eamon and Aeddan in the bathroom.

"I need to comb my hair, Mom said!" Aeddan griped.

"Well get out of the way of my elbow. If I cut myself shaving I'm never going to forgive you."

"Like you've got anything to shave."

"Damn it, Aeddan! It's not your concert. Comb your hair in the hallway."

The door opened, and Ethan's younger teenage son was propelled into the hall. "It's not just your bathroom!" he shouted after his brother.

Lily, standing in the hall, shook her head and sighed. She was already dressed, and looked immaculate and lovely. "You aren't ready yet? Geez."

Ethan ducked into the bedroom, leaving the kids to themselves. There were times when it just didn't pay to get involved. They were old enough to work out their troubles on their own. _And next fall, when Eamon and Lily start college, I'll be wishing it wasn't so quiet._ Ethan remembered his own childhood, when Sara and then Aldon had left, and he had been the only one left in the house at only a little younger than Aeddan was now.

Ethan took off his work clothes and changed into khaki slacks and a green and burgundy striped knit sweater before combing out his hair and pulling it back into a long tail again. He had gotten used to seeing a face in the mirror that looked a lot like his father's. If it weren't for the minor differences in skin tone and hair color, he would have been sure at times that he was looking at a reflection of his father in the mirror, the way he remembered him in his prime. _And then Aerugo happened, and everything almost fell apart.  
><em>

It was no wonder, really, that Lia had made him stay home, even though Ethan was sure that the interns working in the clinic now –who were all licensed doctors, but young, and newer to the practices of medical alkahestry- could have handled the current patient load with minimal difficulty if he had gone. It was for the family that he had stayed: the kids quarreling in the hallway, and his wife downstairs making dinner after a long day teaching high school students.

"Dad," Lily knocked on the door. "Are you ready?"

"I'm coming." Ethan left the master bathroom and went out into the hall, smiling. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," Lily smiled. "We should eat. We don't want to be late."

"As if you're ever late for anything." Ethan kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Dinner smells good."

"Mom made beef pot pies, from scratch," Lily informed him with a gentle expression. "I helped. We thought they might cheer you up."

"Do I seem that depressed?" Ethan felt a twinge of guilt. Half of him was in Xing, but the important half was right here. "I'm sorry, honey. They sound fantastic. Let's go eat your handiwork."

Lily smiled and gave him a quick hug. She smelled slightly of lavender perfume, and Ethan would bet she had a date with Randy after the concert tonight that Lia hadn't mentioned. "I hope you like them."

Ethan refrained from commenting about _the boyfriend_. Randy hadn't done anything to deserve death yet, which was pretty impressive after almost three years. "If you and your mother made them, I'm sure they're fantastic."

**February 19****th****, 1984**

"What's that?" Ted asked James as he watched his cousin come out of his tent, stuffing something into the pocket of his uniform.

"Oh, this?" James paused then pulled the item in question back out. It looked like a simple length of lavender satin ribbon. "It was a present. A good luck charm, I guess you could call it."

"From Krista?" Ted asked, his good mood vaporizing.

"Yeah." James gave him a slightly guilty look. "How'd you know?"

Ted shrugged. "I saw you on Uncle Ethan's porch," he finally admitted. It seemed dumb to pretend he hadn't noticed that the two of them were closer. "You dating?"

James put the ribbon away. "Yeah."

While Ted suspected there was more to it than that, he didn't pry. Instead, he forced a smile on his face. "That's great."

"Really?" James looked skeptical.

"If you're happy, and she's happy, then I'm glad for both of you," Ted replied, ignoring the pit of acid in his stomach. The jealous growl he thought he had managed to successfully stifle.

James' face lit up; as if he had been afraid Ted would be furious. "Thanks, Ted. Look, I know you like her too… I just-"

"She picked you," Ted cut him off. The last thing he wanted was to prolong the conversation. "Don't apologize for that. Congratulations." With that, he turned and continued in the direction he'd been going, back towards his own camp.

He had known, when he saw them, but to have it confirmed… somewhere inside him something snarled. Ted wasn't even completely cognizant of the several minutes' walk through the camp until he walked up to the fire in the middle of the group of tents he and his unit were camped in. Clarina was sitting on a little folding stool in front of the fire, warming herself and a cup of chicken-and-rice soup.

Ted stared into the fire, trying to will his frustration and anger into it. Feed it to the fire, let it go… but it was hard to let it go. He had still harbored absent thoughts about when Krista finally decided she was ready to date…and her coming to find him, not James. They were all friends. It had been friendly for years now, and they had hung out together plenty of times as a group.

And now…

"Is something wrong?" a soft voice asked.

"My cousin just stole my dream girl… that's all."

"Oh."

Too late. Ted cursed himself silently as he turned to see Clarina looked at him with a struck expression, which vanished almost the moment he turned. _I am such an idiot!_ "Clarina I…"

She shook her head, and stood up. It wasn't a rushed movement, but very deliberate. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to disturb your thoughts." And she walked out of the camp with very measured steps.

_Damn it. Just… damn it! _

"You are a complete idiot."

Ted didn't turn around to look at Larry. He could hear the derision in the other alchemist's voice. "Yeah, I know, okay?"

"No it's not okay."

Ted felt Larry's hand on his shoulder and turned to face the Tremor Alchemist. "Stay out of it."

"Not a chance, Proteus." Larry's anger startled him. "What kind of game are you playing? Stringing her along?"

"Of course not!" Ted reached up and shoved Larry's hand off his shoulder with a firm grasp. "I've never claimed we were dating, I've never even implied it. Clarina knows we aren't."

"But you act like it, when we're out," Larry pointed out harshly. "You dance and flirt and you treat her like she's special."

"She is special," Ted retorted.

"If you're not going to take her seriously than stop acting like it." Larry gave him a slightly disgusted look. "She's into you, Proteus. So you'd better make up your mind. If you break her heart I'll break you, got it?"

"Since when are you her protector?" Ted had never been accused of messing with a girl's heart. Offended would have put his feelings mildly.

"What's _your_ problem?" Larry retorted. "Someone's got to be. Apparently it's not you." Then he turned and headed out of camp. "Better get your head out of your ass. We've got to be on the lines in twenty minutes."

Ted resisted the urge to transmute the other man's uniform into a pile of thread. What made him so very furious was… Larry was right. _I've got to talk to her._ Ted headed out of camp on Larry's heals, wondering where Clarina had gone to. He couldn't see her ahead of him, and he might ask Vera but he didn't see her either. Besides which, if Vera heard what he had done, she might just kill him and save Larry the trouble.

* * *

><p>Ted failed to find Clarina before the call to muster. Cursing himself silently, he joined the other alchemists that would be assaulting the southern gates again today. While he knew she would have to show up as well, there was no way he could talk to her privately until later. There would be no privacy in combat. He just hoped that his carelessness didn't hurt their teamwork in combat.<p>

His hopes were not high, however, as Tremor refused to look at him during their combat briefing. Vera stood beside him, listening intently, and only glanced Ted's way once. From the look she gave him, she only had an idea that Larry was mad at him, but possibly not why. That meant Clarina hadn't had a chance to talk to her about it yet. Good, given they were best friends, and once that happened Ted might find himself cooked with radiation waves of some kind. Which he supposed was better than getting caught in a blast when Firestorm set off explosives with fire… at least getting cooked he might just end up sterilized.

He spotted Clarina standing near the back of the group as the briefing finished and they following the combined unit of Xingese and Amestrian troops towards the walls. Ted tried to go over what they had just been told in his head, and found that he wasn't entirely sure what they had said, though having discussed this in extreme detail the night before, he wasn't too worried about it.

By the time Ted managed to get into place with his team, Clarina had joined Larry and Vera, and Vera was shooting Ted some very dirty looks. _Great, just what I need, to turn my whole team against me because of my big mouth._

"Let's just stick to business," was Larry's only comment when Ted tried to start conversation at all. He dropped it. Fine, let them all be mad at him. Or at least, Larry and Vera. He wasn't sure how mad Clarina was… she just looked like she had been crying.

_Make up my mind, huh? He makes it sound so simple. I can't believe he accused me of playing her though. Clarina's not just some random girl she's… _

It was too complicated to think about on the eve of battle. Ted did his best to focus his mind on the task ahead. Today they were a distraction. While they made a very real attempt to break through the southern gate again, their real objective -or at least the critical one- was to be enough of a distraction that the Tiahuan forces didn't notice a small force being inserted into the city particularly for the purposes of spying out the situation within, gathering intelligence on the enemy, and making further efforts to identify -and free- any family or allies of the Imperial family, or anyone else of potential importance that was still on their side.

_I wish it was us going in. _Ted liked the idea of a covert operation, sneaking in, using his brain instead of just being used to divert weapons over… and over. Not that he felt what they were doing wasn't important, but just that he wished the enemy would run out of their arsenal of destruction and the alchemists wouldn't be needed to protect people from the shower of death falling down on their heads. It had been bad enough, he suspected, in the days when canon or regular tank fire were all they had to worry about. _And that's enough to deal with. We've got that too._

An hour later, Ted wasn't feeling nearly so blasé about their position in the fighting.

He wasn't sure if the Tiahuan behind the walls knew that something was different today outside of the fact the attack force to their south was hitting first, but they seemed to be throwing a much fiercer attack at them than usual. The bombardment had started off with smaller rockets, whose aim seemed to improve with every day that they used them against the alchemists.

Today was definitely the worst, given it was all the alchemists could do to keep the barrage from getting through to the regular soldiers, and the tanks that Tao and Franz had sent forward to make the attack more convincing –and hopefully take the walls. It was far more convincing that way.

They didn't speak much. Not surprising in combat, but there wasn't even any of the usual commentary in the group as Ted's unit worked their section of the battle zone. First one projectile went in the air, than another. The challenge was to catch them early enough that the debris didn't fall on their own men and women. For a while, everything seemed to go reasonably well.

Something screamed.

Then the world exploded in a concussive wave of glaring light, heat, and a sharp stab of pain as something sliced past Ted's face –

—Slamming hard into the earth, he got a mouthful of grit and the tang of blood. Screams filled his ears.

They'd been hit! They had missed one...somehow. The screams… they weren't falling explosives now, but people shouting, crying in agony.

He hurt, but he wasn't dead. Frozen for a moment, Ted gave himself a mental shake. Got to move...got to get up! He pushed his face out of the dirt, rubbed it out of his eyes as he spit blood and muck from his mouth. He glanced left-

-and almost passed out at the puddle of blood net to him. Not his blood...someone else's blood. Someone lying face-down with pale blonde hair… without a right arm, the stump oozing into the muck.

"Clarina!" Gasping, Ted struggled to his knees, unaware of how he crossed the distance, ignoring the blood he dropped into as he reached for her. _Don't be dead. Don't be dead. Please, oh god, don't be dead. _He felt for a pulse...and something fluttered under his fingers...maybe? No more time. Don't think, just do… his mind was racing. he scribbled a transmutation circle on her back with the mud and blood on his hands, and dumped alchemical energy into the body in front of him, just hoping his limited healing skills would be enough...and wishing he had paid more attention to how it was done, taken more training from Uncle Ethan.

_Come on… come on…. don't look at the blood. Don't look at her arm… Focus. _

He was vaguely aware of more screaming and shouting around him, but also that the rain of terror seemed to have stopped, at least for now. Instead, it was just raining on them...a cold, frigid winter rain that might as well be snow.

Clarina's body shuddered, then her eyes came open and she let out such a shriek of agony Ted almost lost the transmutation completely. He made himself look at the wound… it was gruesome, and his stomach turned, but the bleeding had stopped. Ripping open his uniform, Ted ripped apart the clean shirt underneath and, resting her arm on his lap, started to bind the wound. "Hang on," he whispered as he looked at Clarina's staring eyes. She wasn't responding enough. Shock, he supposed, as a moment later they closed again. Panicked, he checked her breathing, finding it ragged but stronger. She had passed out.

He had to get her out of here. ::Medic!:: he shouted, hoping one was nearby. The Xing medics were not all alchemists, but now that he had the bleeding stopped, maybe she had a chance. They needed to get her out of the freezing rain, and take care of her properly. She'd need to be warmed, and treated, and medicated, and given real healing.

He didn't look at the rest of her arm. It wasn't in enough pieces for him to consider even the crazy idea of trying to transmute it back on.

::We've got her.::

Ted looked up as two Xingese army medics dropped down beside him with a stretcher between them and a blanket. Ted bit his tongue to keep from telling them to be careful. They knew their jobs. So he stood back, in so much internal agony he just felt numb...knowing the beneath it was a part of him screaming, crying, struggling.

Sobbing came from nearby.

Ted turned, dreading what he might see next. He thought he knew that voice. "Vera?"

The Ultraviolet Alchemist was crouched in the mud, eyes streaked with tears, streaking the eyeliner she wore...even into combat. In front of her lay the prone figure of the Tremor Alchemist. Ted didn't have to ask to recognize that Larry was stone dead.

Vera looked up at him, unseeing for several seconds, than a look of fury came across her features, and before Ted could react she was on her feet, shoving him backwards so hard he slipped in the mud and almost lost his footing. "This is all your fault!" she shouted through half a sob. "You were supposed to cover the right!"

She shoved him again, harder. "There were four of them and you missed! How could you miss? He… oh gods…. You idiot!" She punched him that time, though the fist hit him in the sternum. "He was covering your ass! He… and Clarina… what the hell were you thinking, _you bastard_?"

"She's not dead," Ted found himself saying, for lack of a way to react to the accusations. "I… they've got her. The medics…"

"What happened?" Vera's shock made it clear that she hadn't seen the full of what happened yet. "She went for the second…"

"Her… she lost an arm," Ted had to tell her. She was going to kill him. Clarina was her best friend, and something had gone very wrong. Had he really caused this? He'd been in battle like the rest of them. Why was Vera blaming him?

Vera's eyes opened wide, and she looked over to where he had come from, the blood and mire already filling with the rain. "She…. you… I hate you!" With that she turned and hurried back towards the camp with the retreating combined military unit.

_I guess we can call this a failure. _Ted hoped that the spy group had been successfully inserted into the city. Otherwise, this was an unmitigated disaster. _Is it really my fault? _

Ted didn't really want an answer to that question.

* * *

><p>Ted missed the debriefing.<p>

He was in the infirmary -a long low building the army had taken over while occupying the space- getting patched up. The cut on his face would have required stitches if not for the abilities of the alkahestrists with them. By the time the doctor who saw him finished, he had a thin line that ran across his cheekbone that was mostly new skin. The smaller cuts he hadn't even registered were gone. But they can't bring Larry back, or grow Clarina a new arm. His stomach churned with insecurity. He had been the reason everyone was distracted before the battle. Had he messed up even more than that? Missed an important instruction somewhere? Or had he just been too off himself that he had completely missed the incoming explosive until it was too late?

They let him go with express orders to eat something and stay warm. The healing took it out of the patient too. While his stomach was growling, Ted couldn't go just yet. He had to see Clarina, even if he got yelled at. He had to know if she was going to make it. It can't end like this. Besides, he was too nauseated to eat.  
>The surgery and emergency ward was a smaller set of rooms at the back of the building. Ted made his way there, passing a mirror hanging on the wall. Since the building had been the little village's school when it was inhabited -and later turned into a social meeting place- there were little things still there, decorations of civilian life no one had bothered to remove. I look like shit.<p>

The door was closed. Ted knocked, and it was several seconds before someone opened the door. ::Business?::

::I wanted to check on a comrade, Sir.:: Ted wasn't sure what the man's actual rank was, but figured respect was better than nothing.

::We're full,:: he grunted. ::Too busy.::

::Please...she… she lost an arm.::

That got him a sharp look. ::You're a friend of the girl?:: The way he said friend implied boyfriend or lover.

Ted would take it if that got him in. He nodded. It wasn't technically lying. ::I'm the one who stopped the bleeding.::

::All right. Come in, but you can't stay long.::

::Thank you.:: Ted followed the alkahestrist down the shorter hall to a room on the left. He tried not to look at the blood smudges on the white coat, or listen to the sounds of whimpers or occasional cries from the other rooms.

::The arm is a lost cause,:: the alkahestrist said as he opened the door. ::Though she may be a good candidate for auto-mail. It's gone from just below the shoulder down, but the nerves seem to be functional. She's heavily sedated and medicated for the pain, and has not yet regained consciousness. Still,:: he added after that grim pronouncement, ::You almost certainly saved her life.::

::She'll live?:: Ted felt a tiny part of his knotted guts loosen.

::As long as there are no complications,:: he nodded. ::I am Doctor Riu Shinen. If she needs anything, call for me.::

::Thanks, Dr. Shinen.:: The door closed, and Ted turned to look down the short row of beds. This room must be for the women, he supposed, because there were only eight beds, and at the moment only one was occupied. Not many women on the front lines. Just alchemists. And still few enough of those. Ted allowed himself to indulge in the sexist thought that it wasn't right; women shouldn't die like this, or be maimed, scarred. _Not that it's any better for the rest of us. Aunt Sara would've smacked me for even suggesting anything of the sort_.

Clarina was unconscious, her fair skin so pale it looked white, even in the dim light. They had washed her, he noticed, because she was completely clean, her soft hair still slightly damp. She was layered under warm blankets, with the only painfully obvious signs of anything wrong being an IV pumping medication and fluids into her left arm, and the bandaged stump of her right, resting on top of the covers. The new bandages were done far better than his makeshift shirt-wrapping. He just hoped that the wound did not get infected.

Ted sat down on the edge of the nearest bed. They were close enough together he could reach out, and he could have touched her hand… if it had still been there. He didn't dare reach for the stump. "Hey," he said after several minutes of awkward silence. "Damn… I'm sorry. I'm not even sure how badly I've screwed up today. Vera hates me. I wouldn't blame you if you never want to speak to me again and Larry… he's… well I wish he was still here to try and beat my ass for being stupid. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I know I did earlier. It wasn't even aimed at you, but it was a stupid thing to say. I'm happy for my cousin...and for Krista. They're good together. I hope things work out for them. I'm just jealous. But that's no excuse. I care about you, a lot. I almost lost it when you got hurt, and now it may be too late. But I do like you, Clair. I'm sorry I didn't make that clear enough. Just… please, be okay. I'm here… if you'll ever talk to me again."

Clarina didn't stir. Not that Ted had really expected an answer.

He sat with her until Dr. Shinen returned then he left. As he was let out of the middle-hall door, he almost ran into Vera.

She was dry, in clean clothes, and there was a bandage on her forearm, but beyond that she looked as bad as he had when he looked in the mirror; haunted eyes, pale complexion, which was odd given her warmer tanner skin. Her dark hairstyle was completely mussed. Her eyes were still red. "What are you doing here?"

Nope, not forgiven. "Visiting," he replied vaguely.

"They wouldn't let me in," she replied, glaring at him.

"Sorry." Ted didn't like the way she was looking at him. He had never been on the receiving end of Vera's anger before, and he had never wanted to be. But he wasn't going to yell back or snap. She didn't deserve that. Larry was dead. She'd loved him. "I can talk to Dr. Shinen about letting you in to see her, if you want."  
>Her face turned purple and Ted got the idea that hadn't been the right thing to say. "He shouldn't let you anywhere near her. No thanks for small favors!" She turned and stormed off.<p>

Ted sighed. He needed to figure out what had actually happened. He didn't like not knowing for certain whether or not it was his fault. Vera seemed so sure...but he had done everything he could.

Ted borrowed a clean coat and went straight to the command center. The people he needed to talk to would certainly be there, and he was right.

Franz, Tore, and Cal were all in there, looking over the map, looking grim. For the moment they were the only three men in the tent. They looked up as Ted entered, and closed the door to keep the warmth inside there.

The mood was low. "What happened?"

"You didn't hear?" Tore looked surprised, then shook his head. "Of course not. You've been in the infirmary."

"The infiltration unit is dead," Franz filled in, his expression unreadable. His glasses caught the lamplight so Ted couldn't fully see his eyes. "They were captured as soon as they got inside the walls."

"We have a leak, most likely," Cal said. "They knew exactly where to be."

Ted's stomach sank. "So it was all for nothing?" He had spoken more sharply than intended. Now all three of the more experienced men were looking at him with slightly surprised expressions. Yeah, sorry. Not a war-hardened veteran yet.

Tore came around the table. Ted wasn't sure what to make of the look in his eyes. Sympathy? Regret? Or it could be nothing. "We got a very good idea of what kind of arsenal we're dealing with now, and we know we have someone getting information inside those walls. Now we just have to figure out who it is."

"And stop them?"

"Or use them," Franz said.

"What?" Ted stared at his uncle.

"Misinformation is a useful tool," Franz continued. "If we find out who our leak is, we can feed them the information we want, and the Tiahuan won't have any idea that the intelligence isn't good until we make a move they can't block. We already have some ideas as to who it might be."

"You mean you knew about this leak before?"

"There's always a leak," Cal commented, sipping from a cup of tea. "Especially in something as messy as a civil war."

"You sent us out there expecting this?" Ted couldn't believe his ears. "They blew us to shreds!" He threw out his arm in the general direction of the Imperial City. "They killed Tremor and Alabaster's lying in the infirmary with her arm blown off and you knew this might happen?!"

"Proteus!"

Having his title barked like that by Tore was the last thing he expected. Ted blinked, but cut off his tirade. "Yes… Sir?"

Tore nodded once. "You're off duty for the next two days. You and Ultraviolet both until you've had a chance to heal up a little more. Then I'll assign you both to another unit. We have several with people missing."

Another unit. Ted sighed. Well what had he expected? This was war. You didn't go home when your friends died. You kept fighting. "A request then… please assign us separately."

"Not together?" That got a look from all of them again. Ted didn't like feeling like he was in the middle of an interrogation of silent eyes, especially not by men who at home were just family. Here, there was a distance he just couldn't get used to.

"No." Ted steeled himself. "Shock… Ultraviolet blames me for Tremor's death. She told me… she told me that the explosion that took us out was because I missed a target. I never saw that one coming I… I don't even know if she's right. I never saw it, but we were all there, keeping the barrage off the others. I…"

That time he was sure he saw a momentary sympathy in Tore's eyes. The Shock Alchemist put one hand on Ted's shoulder. "All right. I'll assign you separately. Whatever happened out there, Proteus, don't put that weight on yourself. No plan, however good, completely survives contact with the enemy. You did your best. Now, go get something to eat and get some rest. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir." Ted looked at them all, even more lost and angry, and frustrated. He didn't feel any better, because he hadn't really been absolved. It might well have been his fault, whatever Tore said. He nodded, sensing the dismissal, and left.

* * *

><p>Tore sighed as he watched Ted exit the room. "Poor kid."<p>

"We've all been there," Cal commented behind him.

"Yeah, I remember." Tore remembered only too well the shock that had come with his first combat experience. Cal had given him a drink and a smoke and taught him more over the course of the war in mental survival and coping than he'd ever gotten elsewhere. "Somehow I can't bring myself to offer the kid a drink and find some way to get him laid." What a difference half a life made.

"So we've all grown up since then." Cal chuckled dryly, though it wasn't a humorous sound. They'd all had too rough a day.

Tore ignored the twinge in his side from where he'd caught the brunt of a blast in the ribs. Thanks to the doctors it was already half healed, but it had been a hell of a day. "Maybe. After today, I could still use a good stiff drink."

"We could always bum a little rice wine off the locals," Cal suggested with a tired shrug. "It's probably paint-stripper cheap."

"Then you might try using it to blow the walls," Franz suggested.

For a moment, Tore wondered if he was joking. It had been quite a while since he had heard the man do so. But when he turned around, Franz was still staring intently at their battle plans. While they technically hadn't been here all that long – eight days – it had been a brutal eight already. Franz and Tao's strategy was offensive, despite their position; rigorously trying to keep the Tiahuan forces that had made it inside the city from reconnecting with those still up in Tiahuan along its borders, and trying to consolidate a hold that would cut nearly a quarter of the Xing empire apart from the rest, under Tiahuan control. With the danger of their reasonably amiable rocket-propelled explosives, the alchemists were barely keeping up. Tore honestly wasn't sure how long they would be able to do so physically.

Today's losses were a perfect example. Tore honestly couldn't say if Ted had missed the explosive that killed Tremor and maimed Alabaster. It could well be, but he wouldn't tell the younger man that. It didn't matter now, and it might not have been preventable anyway. Or all of them could have gotten killed if the explosion had fallen only slightly in one direction or the other.

Besides which, they weren't Ted's responsibility… they were Tore's. A good man had died today, and a vibrant young woman had been injured in a way that would have her on a train home the moment she was healthy enough. There was no way she could continue fighting. There were likely years of auto-mail rehabilitation in her future, if she chose that route. Then, if she wanted, she might come back to active duty, or she might choose not to. Clarina Harper had always struck Tore as a particularly quiet, peaceful young woman, not suited for combat, despite the fact she was quite good at defensive alchemy, like what they were using here.

"Let's go find some paint stripper," he quipped to Cal. "We've got some walls that need burning."


	12. Chapter 12

**February 19****th****, 1984 (Continued) **

Roy went hunting Ted. He had heard about the loss of Tremor, and Alabaster's terrible injury. He'd been relieved that Ultraviolet and Proteus had come out of it with only minor injuries, though he was sure the emotional scarring would go far deeper, and last longer, than any physical wounds.

It took a while to find him though, even looking for a blond head among thousands of dark-haired Xingese soldiers. Ted had not been in his tent, or anywhere in the alchemist camp, or even the Amestrian barracks at all. Naturally, he couldn't have been somewhere easy to locate him. Which meant, Roy surmised, that Ted had gone somewhere further out into the thousands of tents and temporary shelters that littered the hillside.

_Probably looking for someplace where no one he knows will ask questions… and booze. _The last was an afterthought, but one Roy wouldn't discount. After that kind of trauma, it was what he would do… without Trisha around to turn to for consolation anyway.

Ted didn't have anyone.

In his search, Roy had also run into James, who looked concerned when he heard that Ted wasn't anywhere to be found, and mentioned a conversation from that morning that only compounded things…and convinced Roy that he would not find Ted anywhere near the Amestrian camp, not when he didn't find him at the infirmary, where Clarina was still unconscious.

It took over an hour, but he finally found Ted in a Xingese camp that was near the edge of things, but with a view of the Imperial City walls in the distance. Thankfully by then the rain had stopped. Ted sat on a small folding stool, staring into a campfire, holding a small metal cup that Roy recognized as the type the army drank out of here.

Roy decided quickly that sneaking up on Ted Elric in a bad mood was probably not a good idea. "Drunk yet?" he asked by way of introduction as he stepped into the camp. The one Xingese soldier sitting outside glanced up at him, then went back to cleaning his rifle.

"Yep," Ted replied simply, without moving.

"Is it working?"

"Not enough." Ted took a swig of whatever was in his cup. "Or maybe too well."

Well that was an ambiguous answer. "What do you mean?" Roy came around and sat down on one of the stools opposite Ted.

He was almost immediately struck by two observations; the first, that Ted really did look a lot like pictures of his grandfather in his younger days in the fire light; and the second, that Ted's expression was worryingly contemplative; the look Fullmetal got when he had an idea.

"What are you drinking?" Roy asked, now suspicious.

"Not sure," Ted shrugged. "The name translates roughly to 'the fastest way to forget memories you'd rather wish you had never experienced.' It's pretty potent."

"Have you had enough yet?"

"Nope." Ted shook his head. "I can still remember everything." He took a sip. "But it's given me a lot of things to think about."

Given his expression, Roy wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "What are you thinking, Proteus?"

"I'm thinking-" Ted upended the cup and finished it in a gulp, "That it's time to take a walk." With that, he stood up, set down the cup, and headed down the hill into the darkness.

Well… shit. Roy hopped up and followed him. He didn't know how much the kid had in him, or what he was thinking, but with their family it could be anything! His longer strides made it fairly easy to catch up, but it worried him that Ted was heading in an easterly direction, towards the battlefront they had vacated mere hours before. "Where are we going?" he asked when they were out of earshot of the camps.

"I'm going to succeed at the mission that failed this morning," Ted replied.

"What?" Roy was getting a bad feeling about this. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean, the whole point of this morning's disaster was to insert someone inside the city who could spy things out and bring out information," Ted explained. "And," he added with a bitter tone, "Apparently to try and figure out who our security leak or leaks might be, not that they told us that before they sent us out to die."

"Do I want to know how you plan to get in, when we couldn't before? They caught and killed our operative agents," Roy pointed out, a sense of urgency growing inside him. This was foolish. The kid must have more in him than he thought to think this was a good idea. "This is crazy."

"Is it?" Ted shrugged as he kept walking. "I'm going in over the one wall no one's even bothered with… the east."

It was true that they had been attacking from the West, and attacks on the Northern and Southern gates had been their primary focus, but… "That doesn't mean they aren't watching it," Roy pointed out. "What's going to make this different from this morning?"

"There's no way our leak has any idea we're going in."

That— was a good point. "But that doesn't up your percentage of success by much."

"It's an edge. That, and they won't be expecting it at night." Ted picked up speed. "There's more than one way into the city after all."

"Do you have a plan for getting inside other than 'pick a different wall?'" Roy pushed the subject. He should drag Ted's ass back to camp, but he wanted to hear out the plan first… curiosity if nothing else.

"Other than trusting to a little Elric luck?" Ted grinned. "I thought I'd scope the wall out first. Maybe slip in under a truck, or just go over in a dark spot. They can't be watching it all the time."

"Actually, they can," Roy pointed out. Elric luck indeed. "You're starting to sound like Fullmetal."

"And history shows that's not a bad thing," Ted chuckled. "I'm named after him; maybe a little of that will get us through this."

"That's like saying that just because I'm named after a legend I can do everything he could," Roy snorted. He was grateful that very few people ever commented on his name anymore. He had his own reputation, and the comparisons to Grandpa Roy were always favorable if they made any.

"But it's in your blood too," Ted pointed out. "You're a flame alchemist. I'm kind of an alchemist-of-all-trades… that's like grandpa too. So what if I'm not as experienced? He wasn't once. I've got more training than he did when he pulled off half the crazy stuff he did as a kid. You… you're a walking match."

"Gee, thanks."

"I mean that in the best way possible," Ted quipped, climbing over a rock. "Between the two of us if we wanted to, I don't see why we couldn't just take down the damned wall."

Oh hell… "You're not really suggesting we-"

"No, heck no," Ted shook his head. "At least, not right off. Maybe on the way out," he added with a wicked grin. In the darkness it caught little light, but his white teeth were still clear in the dark. Ted looked slightly feral.

"That still doesn't get us in," Roy replied, wondering when he had found himself agreeing to this, other than he was pretty sure he wasn't going to talk Ted out of it without a fight… a physical one, right in front of enemy walls. No, that wasn't the best idea.

Ted laughed. "We're two guys named Roy Mustang and Edward Elric, if we can't get inside a city, we don't deserve our names."

* * *

><p>Ren left the infirmary building late that evening, exhausted from spending most of the afternoon using her abilities on critically wounded patients. The ones dead on the field she could do nothing for, but she had done as much as she could to save those with any spark of life left. In most cases, she had been successful.<p>

In others, she had not been so fortunate. Death… she was tired of death. Her entire life was devoted to keeping people alive and healthy. This kind of work wore on the spirit. It was no wonder so many military doctors needed psychological help themselves over the years.

Once off duty, Ren went looking for family. She had heard that Ted had been in earlier, getting patched up and then spent some time at the bedside of the girl who had lost her arm. They were teammates, but Ren got the feeling there was more to it.

However she couldn't find Ted. His camp was completely empty. The tent he had shared with Larry Pullman was cold. The Ultraviolet Alchemist was nowhere to be found. The fire was cold. She didn't see many others on her way to the dining hall -an old barn and the camp kitchen tent the Xingese army had set up next to it.

The only person she saw there that was a much needed familiar face was Cal Fischer. "I see you're not in council for once, General," she commented as she walked up to his table after getting herself a hot cup of tea.

"Even General Heimler has to stop sometime," Cal commented, looking up at her. "Care to join me?"

Ren smiled at her brother-in-law. "Thank you. I could use some living company."

"I am known for being lively," Cal chuckled just a little, his face cracking into a smile. It wasn't an expression she had seen on anyone's face much of late. "How are you doing?"

"Tired," she admitted. "Frustrated too. We lost the trail in the stream with the weather and I couldn't go look today at all." Not with so many lives needing her skills.

She and James and Jean Stevens had managed to determine the trail went off west quite a ways, but it had eventually vanished where the stream reached ground level. Likely it had been abandoned at that point as being too out in the open, but it had been a rocky area, and snow and freezing rain had wiped away any remaining track. "Maybe if we had a tracking dog."

"I'll ask Tao if they have any hounds around here," Cal suggested. "There's plenty of farm country around. I'm sure even Xingese farmers hunt."

"Thank you." Ren started eating the hot rice and strips of beef that constituted dinner. It wasn't fancy, but it was hot and it was reasonably tasty. "I just hope that we're not chasing dreams. Someone's alive. I just wish I was certain who it was."

"We'll find them," Cal assured her. "Survival's something we're good at. They've probably holed up somewhere warm and we'll hear from them when it's safe."

"I hope so." Ren shook her head. "I'm trying to be patient, but it's hard. The only members of my family I know are all right are Kamika, because she's at home, and Tao because he's here. And that only makes him as safe as the rest of us."

"And Minx," Cal pointed out.

"In theory. I haven't heard a thing from my daughter since before we left home." Ren did not trust Minxia to stay out of this either. It wasn't in her nature.

"She's got Thrakos Argyros with her," Cal pointed out. "He'd die before he let anything happen to Minx. At least, anything he didn't do to her himself."

"Thanks for that though." Ren mimed hitting him, but didn't. It actually was reassuring to remember that he was there, totally devoted to her little girl. She wondered if he had ever gotten around to convincing Minxia to marry him. While she tried not to pry into her daughter's love life, the look on Thrakos' face when he looked at Minxia told her that he was definitely ready to be more than just a long-distance boyfriend. She couldn't imagine him being too shy to push the point either. Hopefully the two of them were still safe at the dig site, staying out of trouble. Ren needed to see if she could get a hold of that phone number and try calling the dig. Then at least she could reassure herself someone else was all right. "It's so quiet tonight. I haven't seen anyone but you."

"Franz and Tao are in a meeting with Tao's generals," Cal informed her. "Tore's checking on his men. He was also going to see if there was a civilian phone around here we could use for calls of a non-military nature." His tone made it quite clear what he meant.

Ren smiled. "That would be nice." She couldn't call Will; not when he was somewhere north of them, and she didn't know where. "I could call Kamika."

"Oh." Cal slapped himself in the forehead. "Damn it, I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you. We got a call today."

"A call?"

"From our friends up north."

Excitement leapt in her. "What did they say?" She didn't mention names. The room was not guaranteed to be safe. Not if they had someone leaking information to the Tiahuan.

Cal was just as circumspect. "Well, they said that their site-seeing tour was cut off by weather but they got a great lead on a good spot to hole up for a while, and told us about some friends they made. Apparently it's sparked some mutual interests."

So Will, Al, Ed, and Winry had found out information about the location of the explosives factories and had names of people of interest to the military. "Any word on the family they're visiting?"

Cal nodded. "Apparently they've moved, but the new place isn't too far away from where they're going. There's been some trouble getting there, but they seem to be okay."

So a lot of the family had been captured, not killed, and was being moved to a secure location near the explosives factories, somewhere up in Tiahuan territory. But that meant people were alive! "Did they say who?"

Cal shook his head, though he did pull out a pen and doodle something on a paper napkin as he continued speaking. "Most of the bunch. Some folks are still at the house moving things. We're all invited up next summer for the weekend."

"Sounds great."

They continued like that, letting the chit-chat drift to real chatting, away from the subterfuge, until they had both finished eating. When they were done, Ren offered to clear the table. The napkin went in her pocket, not the trash. When she got back to her room -a small one in the old farmhouse that had been converted to 'royal and military headquarters'- she pulled it out eagerly. While it wasn't too much more informative, it still felt like a lifeline. Rumor is that most of the women and children were in a truck. No mention of the men, but also no mention of deaths. Rumors said that Mao couldn't be dead yet since Amestrians hadn't announced it, nor had the folks in Tiahuan. So there was hope… lots of it… that almost everyone was alive. Ren clutched the napkin to her chest. _We're coming. Hold on. We're coming. _

* * *

><p>The city below them wouldn't have looked all that out of place in northern Amestris, or southern Drachma, Edward thought as he watched the walls coming slowly closer. It was one of those northern industrial cities that all seemed to look the same despite differences in architecture. Here, there was less difference. Everything was meant to keep warm in the frigid northern climate.<p>

Not that they could actually see much in the winter nightfall. It was dark, but the glow of the city on the clouds above –and the lights on the steaming chimneys, gave enough to give an idea of the size of the place. It reminded Ed, on the surface, of Buzcoul. Not that he had fond memories of that city either of the times he'd been through.

His ports ached almost as much today as they had then, and only less so because he hadn't been abusing them nearly as much on this trip. This wasn't a war, it was espionage. He would save pushing himself to ridiculous limits for the main event.

"What are we going to do first?" Will asked. Al's son was taking his turn behind the wheel. Al had shotgun, and Ed was in the back with Winry, who was dozing on his shoulder. He didn't have the heart to wake her, not just yet.

"Find a place to lay low," Ed commented.

"What, we're not charging in, alchemy blazing?" Al quipped from the front.

Ed ignored his brother's playful tone. "We need a base of operations that will allow us to scout out the city, especially the factories, without raising suspicions. We need to find out information about where they're keeping the family if we can, and we need to find a phone." One that it wouldn't seem odd to be making international calls from. He needed to get word of what they knew back to Amestris. It would probably be the fastest way to get it to their soldiers down near the Imperial City as well. In either case, Amestris needed to know that the Hashman Syndicate had put in that order for a very large ordinance. Ed could just imagine the chaos that would cause if they dared to take it back across the desert to Amestris, and he could not convince himself that it wasn't going that direction. Amestris had disrupted the heart of their operation, and it still boasted the largest organization of trained alchemists.

His family was still at risk, and what Ed had learned did not make him feel any better about the ones he had left behind, especially in Central.

* * *

><p>Head-colds were one of Michio's less favorite things in life, but he considered this one more than worth it. It had taken three days of trekking across the frozen landscape of Xing in winter to reach the little village of Rillin, claiming to be refugees from the attack on the Imperial City. It was easy enough, and easily believed, as there were several dozen other people who had already fled to the city as well, willing to risk their lives rather than live in a city controlled by the Tiahuan. Some of them had left later than Michio –many actually- and already had horror stories of the cruelty of Tiahuan soldiers as they enforced "traditional ways."<p>

So Michio didn't have to spin much of a story, though he didn't give their full –or proper- names. The doctor who saw Mao was a wizened little old woman who claimed to only be passingly good with alkahestry, but Michio was still impressed with her efficiency with what she knew.

So they had been fortunate so far. Uncle Mao's health, while poor, had stabilized, and they were no longer camping out in the frigid winter. There was also beds for them both in the large house where most of the refugees were being kept. It happened to belong to the doctor's son and his wife. Their daughter, as it turned out, was right about Michio's age, and had been home, visiting briefly from University when everything exploded.

The fact she kept smiling at him didn't hurt their accommodations either. Especially since she often came in to check on Mao and bring them food or water. So after a day there, Michio dared to ask her a critical question. ::Is there a phone I could use? I need to try and contact my family and tell them we're alive.::

::Of course,:: she nodded. ::We have a phone downstairs. Do you know the number?::

For a moment, Michio considered calling home, even if he wasn't sure who would answer. After this long, he would be stunned if half his family wasn't out there somewhere with the military units that Amestris had sent to support the Imperial family. But he wasn't sure he could reach the military outpost. ::Maybe,:: he finally replied. ::The problem is my nearest relatives are with His Highness Tao's military units most likely, and I'm not sure how to call them.::

::Oh.:: She beamed. ::Then you don't need the phone. We have an old radio system rigged up in the basement. It will reach that far if the weather's good. We should be able to just radio the military on the right frequency and you can tell them who you're looking for. Are you sure though?::

He was more than sure. Michio nodded. ::Yeah. That'll be fine, though I might use the phone later.:: But only when he was sure no one would overhear the call to Amestris. ::Where's this radio, and can someone show me how to use it?::

::I'll show you,:: she promised him, smiling. ::Grandpa used to use it all the time when I was little.::

::Thanks.:: Michio stood slowly, stifling a sneeze. ::Will my uncle be all right, you think?::

::No one will bother him here,:: she assured him. ::And it will only take a couple of minutes.::

Michio felt tense as he followed her out the door and down the stairs, though he was fairly certain it was just extreme fatigue, coupled with the head-cold. That and jumping at shadows on the run for days. _How did Grandpa and Great-Uncle Ed ever handle this kind of thing on a regular basis?_

::By the way,:: he asked as they walked down to the basement, which turned out to be much nicer than he anticipated, with full wooden paneled walls, finished floors, and a wine cellar.

::By the way what?:: she asked, giving him a curious smile.

::I… I haven't had the pleasure of your name,:: Michio admitted with his most charming smile.

She chuckled as she showed him to the radio equipment, then sat down and turned it on. ::Milan.::

Michio resisted the urge to tell her his full real name. He'd called himself Chio on arrival. Once he left, he would likely never see her again. A shame. She was very attractive. ::So how does this work?::

::Just watch and listen.:: Milan turned several dials before speaking into the microphone in front of her. ::This is M-M-One, looking for water-lilies. Anyone seen any?::  
>It had to be some sort of code, but Michio couldn't imagine what water-lilies had to do with military signals.<p>

She didn't get a response, so she changed frequencies and tried again. Two tries later, they got a burst of static, followed by a male voice. ::M-M-One this is Lotus. What's your business on this frequency?::

Milan grinned at him. ::Lotus, I have a guest here hoping to relay a message that he's alive to relatives in your neighborhood. He's sure that they're with you.::

::And who are these relatives?::

Michio was surprised the man hadn't just told them to buzz off a military radio. The signal she had sent out must have been an authentic code of some sort. Maybe her Grandfather had been in the Xing military. It seemed likely. Michio sat quietly until Milan waved him forward.

::Putting him on now,:: she warned Lotus. ::Speak,:: she whispered to Michio as she put him in front of the microphone.

Michio swallowed and tried to think fast. He hadn't really had time to formulate a message. He would just have to hope that anything Milan heard she didn't spill in the wrong ears. ::Lotus this is Michio. I have a message for my Cousin Tao. Tell him that his father is fine. We're both safe. We'll join them as soon as we can.::

There was a long silence on the other end of the radio.

::Michio?::

He almost fell out of his chair at the sound of the voice on the other end. ::Mom?::

::Thank goodness,:: she gasped. ::I've been so frantic! Did you say you have my brother?::

Milan was staring at him now. Michio did his best to ignore it. ::Yes, Mom. Uncle is fine. Well, he will be. He's alive anyway. It's been… an interesting time.::

::Where are you?::

::Not far,:: he replied vaguely. If anyone else heard this transmission, than they didn't need the exact location getting out with Mao in his present condition. ::We'll come to you when we can. Just… let the right people know Mom. Have…have you heard from anyone else?::

::There's a good reason to hope almost everyone has survived at the moment,::his mother replied, catching on to the need for vagaries. ::But they're not here. Be safe… They're making me get off the radio.:: She sounded huffy at that.

Michio managed a slight laugh, partially at her, and partially at the relief he felt –even as an adult- knowing his mother was not that far away. ::Love you, Mom.::  
>When the signal stopped, he realized Milan was giving him an even funnier, rather knowing look. Michio sighed and looked at her. ::Look, you can't repeat any of what you just heard. It's important that no one knows who we are right now. Not while my uncle is ill.::<p>

::Did you think I hadn't figured it out?:: Milan surprised him with a shake of her head. ::I'm not a fool, and neither is my grandmother. I know who your uncle is, and that makes you Michio Elric.::

He blinked. ::So much for subtlety on my part, huh?::

::Oh I don't think everyone knows,:: she smiled and shrugged. ::But it's not like most people haven't seen his face on television. Only Grandmother and I have seen him up close yet though. I think you'll be fine until we can reunite you safely.::

::You're an angel.:: Michio resisted the urge to hug a girl he barely knew. ::I really don't know how to repay you.::

::The compliment's a nice start.:: Milan chuckled softly, smiled at him, and turned off the equipment. ::If those guys are good at their jobs, they should be able to figure out roughly where you are just from the conversation and transmission signal. Give them time and you'll probably have a rescue squad. In the meantime, you should get upstairs and get some rest yourself. You don't look much better than your uncle."  
>Michio followed her upstairs without protest. ::For now, I'll take that as a compliment.::<p>

* * *

><p>"So what crazy plan do you have for this?" Roy asked as they hid in a stand of brush outside the city walls to the East.<p>

There were no gates along this stretch of wall, and few guards, which reassured Ted, who wasn't about to admit he hadn't really thought that far ahead. He just felt like he was sure something would come to him when he got here and, to his surprise and relief, an idea started forming as he looked at the expanse of ancient stone in front of him. "If we can't go through the gates," he grinned, "We go under the wall."

"Under?" Roy looked at the massive wall. "You know that thing probably goes down quite a few feet right?"

"Well I wasn't planning on digging by hand. It takes too long." Ted glanced out. If he hit the shadows on the walls fast enough, he should be able to trace out a transmutation circle that would let him put a tunnel into the city in less than a minute. "We transmute a tunnel, go through, and then fill it in again. We're inside, and no one's the wiser."

"And once we get inside?"

"You can't rush genius," Ted snorted, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt at the moment, though he was surprised he felt more confident.

"This is rash, crazy, and complete insane." Roy sighed. "So why am I thinking this will work?"

"Because it's so simple they would never expect anyone to attempt it." In fact, it was so obvious, Ted couldn't imagine that anyone would think anybody was stupid enough to try it. Which was, of course, why it was perfect. "The mistake they made the first time was trying to sneak people in under cover of fire, and as part of an established plan. There's no way this plan can be leaked, because we just figured it out and no one even knows we're gone."

"Yet."

"Yet." Ted agreed. When they got out of this, they were probably going to be in huge trouble. At least, if they didn't turn out heroes. "We might get court-martialed…. or we might be welcomed back with a parade."

"I wouldn't bet on the parade."

"Fine. Let's go." Ted felt the need to be moving, to be working, to not let himself think of what was back in camp. If he did… He jumped out of the bushes and stalked through the darkness, hurrying to the wall. When he got there, he paused in the dark, waiting to see if he had been spotted.  
>Roy appeared beside him in the darkness.<p>

No noises but the wind in the trees, and the murmurs of city life from the other side, but nothing sounded nearby, which was interesting given so large a city. Ted nodded, pulled chalk out of his pocket, and set to work sketching out a transmutation circle on a flat rock near the wall that made a good surface. It didn't take long, though the scratching of the chalk seemed loud in the night. Finally it was done. Going carefully to avoid letting out too much light, he transmuted. A tunnel appeared in the darkness.

"Where does it come out?" Roy whispered.

Ted grinned, though he didn't think Roy could see it. "Let's find out."

The tunnel was big enough for them to drop in, walk, and climb out, but only if they hunched over slightly. Ted considered that he probably could have made it bigger since he had used alchemy, but he didn't say anything. Roy bumped his head behind him at least twice in the darkness.

They came out at the end of a dark alleyway. "Charming end of town," Ted quipped as he climbed out, and waited for Roy before he bent down, drew another circle, and closed the tunnel. "Now, we scout things out."

"Great. Do you speak Xingese?" Roy asked, still looking skeptical.

"A little." Not much. But Ted wasn't going to say that. He considered himself 'almost' conversant, but no expert.

"I'm not sure if I'm here to help you or watch you fall on your face when you sober up and realize we are screwed."

"Thanks for the confidence." They didn't seem to have been spotted, so Ted turned and headed down the alley. "Let's find local clothes and see what we can find out."

"Do you even know where we're going?" Roy asked, following.

Ted looked out the end of the alley and up the hill towards the center of town… and the Imperial Palace. "I know exactly where we're going."

Roy's eyes followed his gaze, and there was a moment of shock on the Firestorm Alchemist's face. It vanished quickly. "You know, I was kidding when I said you were crazy. I'm not kidding anymore."

"Well sane wasn't getting any results." Ted glanced up and down the street, and spotted what looked like an old closed thrift store. "I bet we can find clothes in there."

The store was empty, run down, and looked potentially abandoned. Still, Ted managed to find clothing for himself and Roy in relatively short order. "These will work. And this." Ted picked up a box of hair dye. Roy could pass for vaguely Xingese with his dark hair, but Ted's blond would stand out as Amestrian from just about anywhere. Thankfully some Xingese liked to bleach and dye their hair to add a variety of color to an otherwise dark-brown-to-black range. This looked like some sort of dark fuchsia-plum color.

"Well that's festive," Roy commented as he slipped into slightly oversized clothes, and sniffed. "And this is not the most pleasant thing I've ever worn. It smells like whoever wore it last was drunk…"

"That's okay, it looks like he was fat too," Ted snickered as he went looking for a sink to pour the dye in. The shirt was more than a little baggy on Roy, but it had been the only thing long enough. He wasn't exceptionally tall, but he beat out a lot of Xingese men.

"I'll find a belt. Just hurry up." Roy turned to look through the clothes, while Ted looked around back, and found a small bathroom. It only took him a few minutes to dye his hair and dry it using alchemy. When he returned, Roy had found a belt.

Mustang gave him a querying look. "You look like a punk with that hair."

"Better a punk than Amestrian," Ted pointed out. "Besides, this is all the style with our age group out here right now. I saw some photos Mich sent home." He hoped his second cousin was all right. The thought was momentarily sobering. "So I was thinking, we should probably try and see what news we can get by listening around before we just walk up to the doors and go in."

"Sensibility now? You were on such a roll," Roy quipped, though he nodded. "What did you have in mind?"

"Hit a tea shop or restaurant that's still open, but relatively busy, order something, and listen to the local gossip. I can't imagine people are talking about much other than the occupation. Or not talking about it at all," which could be just as informative.

"Got any local money?" Roy asked.

Ted nodded. "Actually, I've got enough for a couple of meals. Won it off the Xing soldiers playing cards," he added with a grin. He was lucky he'd found that in his pockets. He hadn't realized it was there before he left camp. At least not consciously. But then, most of this plan seemed to be springing to mind of its own volition.

Suddenly there was pounding on the front door, which Ted had locked behind them. ::Hey! Come out of there!:: a voice bellowed. Ted couldn't be sure if it was police, military, or the owner of the place…if the owner were violently inclined.

"Well crap." He glanced around. "Let's take a back route."

Roy followed him to the back of the store, where they quickly discovered that there was no way out the back of the building. "Only one answer for that," Roy grumbled.  
>Ted nodded. "We make one."<p>

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 429/2014 TO BE CONTINUED... DUN DUN DUNNNNN!_

_Much to my horror and chaigrin, I have caught up with myself, thanks to the insanity of my job this year. For those who don't know, I started teaching 7th, 8th, and 9th grade English at a small school district nearby this year, and I have been writing lesson plans and grading assignments all year. Now that the year is nearly at an end, and we are in the middle of 'oh save me' Standardized Testing... (and that's the short list of craziness)..._

_-well I haven't had nearly enough time to write. _

_The next chapter is 'almost' finished, and the rest of the story is roughly outlined, but it's not done. So I am going to need to take a few weeks' break (like I did last summer, as many of you may recall) to catch up with myself and get it hammered out. I have this story planned, and still another couple in the works for after it, so we are by no means 'done' but I do need to take the time to make sure it comes out 'properly' and isn't rushed._

_At this rate, my job may inspire "Days in the life of Lia Elric...Amestrian High School Teacher." _

_Thanks for understanding! Except shorter pieces to spring up in the meantime as well to tide folks over (just not in the next three weeks. I need to survive to Summer break first!) _


	13. Chapter 13

**February 20****th****, 1984**

"So that's the situation," Ren finished up as she sat across the planning table from Franz. She had filled him in on what she knew of Michio and Mao, concern for them temporarily eased by the fact that they were both alive. That, coupled with the news from Cal that most of her family was still alive in trucks headed north, was almost enough for celebration given the terrible possibilities she had faced over the past couple of weeks.

James and Jean, her self-proclaimed entourage, sat on stools to one side, leaning tiredly against another small table, trying to look alert and at the ready.

Ren appreciated it, even though she didn't feel it called for. She was perfectly safe in an army of her family's own soldiers. The call from Michio had rejuvenated her, and Ren wasn't tired at all. Or maybe it was just decades of medical practice and parenthood that made her more alert when hale young men were dead on their feet.

Franz was nodding. "This is good news. Very good. Does Tao know?"

"I spoke with him," Ren nodded. Tao had been the first person she let know the news. His reaction to knowing his father was alive had been more subdued –because of the public audience of two of his generals- but no less relieved. The Emperor lived…and the enemy had no idea. Presuming of course, that neither of Tao's closest advisors were actually the spies in question. Tao trusted them, and Ren was inclined to as well. She had known both of the other men in that room since her own teen years. "The situation seems far less grim than it did a few hours ago."

"Right. Now all we have to do is rescue everyone and take back a city."

Ren forgave Franz the flippant sardonicism in his tone. This campaign was not something she would have wished on anyone. But then, she had never wanted military command.

Two men barged through the entrance, and Ren was halfway to her feet before she recognized both Cal and Tore standing there. Neither of them looked happy.

Franz, James, and Jean had all come to their feet as well.

"What's wrong?" Franz asked.

"We've got a problem," Tore said.

"Proteus and Firestorm are missing," Cal finished.

Ren's mind took a moment to process that information, but Franz's face had already gone briefly ashen.

"What do you mean they're _missing_?"

"Neither one of them has been seen in the camps in at least four hours," Cal continued. Neither man looked calm about it, in fact they both looked like they were stifling fury as much as worry. "The last time anyone reports seeing them, Roy was talking to Ted in a Xingese camp on the edge of the army. Ted was reportedly drunk."

"Like we didn't see that coming when we took him off duty," Tore mumbled so low Ren barely heard him.

"And after that?" Franz barked.

"They took a walk."

Franz glared between them. "Two State Alchemists don't just _take a walk_ in the middle of the night in a war zone."

"Apparently they do in this family." Cal's snark was not at all quiet. "No one knows what they talked about, but if I had to place a bet on this one, I'd gamble my half of the bed back home that Firestorm's just keeping an eye on the boy."

"That's not much of an excuse." Franz rubbed his temple with one hand, under his glasses. "If he doesn't drag Proteus back here by dawn they're on their own, and when I find them, they'd better have a damned good reason to avoid getting shipped home on the next train for dereliction of duty."

At least, Ren thought, no one had even suggested either man would consider running off. It was beneath either of them to do something like that. "After what happened today, it might not be a bad idea to send Ted home," she agreed, speaking quietly into the conversation. She had been to the Infirmary, and seen the girl, and heard a brief version of the events. She knew too well what wars did to men, especially young ones. _When did I start to sound like Grandpa Bao?_

"Let's find him first, alive preferably," Cal commented. "And without raising any alarms. We don't need to complicate matters any more than they already are."

* * *

><p>"The next time you have a drunken brilliant scheme, you're on your own," Roy grumbled as he stood, back against a building in an alley, still listening for the possible sounds of pursuit. He tried not to pant too heavily. Following Ted through the Imperial City, the new Tiahuan military police on their heels, was like following a cat through a junk pile. If Roy had learned one thing, Xingese architecture made for lousy roof-hopping.<p>

"Admit it, you're having fun," Ted quipped, panting almost as much as Roy, though that maniacal gleam had not left his eyes. In fact, it seemed to have gotten stronger, his confidence growing as they made their way deeper into the city, moving in the direction of the palace in a very round-about way. At this time of night, the Tiahuan had imposed a curfew –not surprising- and any time someone caught a possible whiff of someone on the streets, Roy and Ted found themselves slinking –or running- to avoid capture.

"Sorry Proteus," Roy grimaced. "My idea of fun involves more Trisha and less talk."

Ted shook his head as he peered around the corner, eyeing the palace that was now only a few short blocks away. "No wonder you're a grump when she's not around. You married guys are no fun to hang around anymore."

Roy refused to make any of the counter-quips that came to mind. Women were –in several ways- the root of the problem this evening. If Ted hadn't gotten this hair-brained idea in his head; if he hadn't been drinking; if he hadn't been worried about the girl… Comments like the several really scathing ones in his mind would not help this particular situation. _And if we both die here, Trisha will be the first alchemist to find a way to bring me back just so she can kill me again._ He manfully bit his tongue. "So, genius, how are we getting inside? And have you figured out how we're going to avoid being immediately recognized as 'out of towners?'" Even though they had changed into their pilfered garments neither of them spoke much Xingese.

"Well I had considered just walking up to the door and ringing the bell," Ted quipped. "But I thought we might do better to try a servant's entrance. They're usually not as heavily guarded and I'd imagine a lot of the guys working in the palace aren't thrilled with the change in leadership."

"That's a big assumption to risk this on."

"So was the possibility we could get past the walls." Ted turned. "They're gone and we've got a straight shot to the side entrance once we get around that turn."

"How do you know that?" Roy asked.

"I was looking at the maps in the planning room the other night," Ted shrugged. "I have a good memory."

"Apparently." Roy still thought this whole plan was crazy, but he was beginning to wonder if it was on a completely differently level of crazy. Ted was either going to get them killed, or somehow brilliantly save the day. Roy didn't see much room for an intermediate step at this point. "All right. Let's go."

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because it'll be too obvious." Ted shrugged as if that should also have been obvious. "There are always early morning deliveries to places like this. A palace has a lot of people. Kitchens need fresh produce. We wait until they show up, and then we get in mixed in the chaos."

"So we're just going to stand on this corner until then?"

"Of course not. We stand too much of a chance of being discovered." Ted shook his head. "We need to find a spot to lie low for a couple of hours."

Roy stepped up to the edge and glanced up and down the street. He looked at the doors down the block. This close to the palace there wasn't much besides quiet neighborhood, but this particular stretch looked to be a small shopping area. One window was not dark. It had a soft glow coming out of the curtains. The sign above the door was not lit, but from the nearest streetlight Roy recognized the sign as belonging to a bar of some kind. The painted rice-wine cup set next to the name was a dead giveaway. Or it might be a tea shop. In either case, someone was up.

This particular street was not badly damaged. Still, Roy had a feeling they might have some luck finding a place to hide out. "Let's try there."

Ted followed Roy's gesture with his own eyes. "Sounds like a plan."

Scanning the roads again, they quietly moved along the edge of the sidewalks, sticking to the shadows under awnings outside businesses, and trying not to move too quickly or too slowly. The last thing they wanted to do was draw attention. Though at this hour, any sane person should be unconscious.

They arrived outside the bar without incident. Roy took a deep breath. Either he was right about the loyalty of the people, or they might be about to be turned over to Tiahuan enforcers. He tried the handle, and found the door unlocked.

Slipping inside, he closed the door behind himself and Ted. ::Anybody home?:: Roy risked an announcement in badly accented Xingese. They didn't want anyone to think they were sneaking in or trying to rob the place. Even if they were sneaking in… at least they weren't trying to steal anything. _Maybe someone… _

The light was coming from an open door to a back room, and a clink of glass or porcelain was Roy's only response for a moment. Then he heard footsteps, and two Xingese men appeared in the doorway faster than he had anticipated…weapons drawn. One held a gun, the other an old sword that looked like it might have come down off a wall. ::Who are you?:: one of them growled.

It took Roy a second to translate. ::Friends… if you don't like Tiahuan traitors.::

::Amestrians.:: the other man commented, squinting at them in the dim light.

Ted nodded. ::We're here to help,:: he managed.

The two men exchanged glances, though they did not lower weapons just yet. "How?" the first one asked again, switching into Amestrian. "Your Xingese is terrible."

Roy felt mildly relieved. "We haven't had much practice," he admitted unapologetically. "We're trying to get information, and give the Tiahuan as much of a headache as possible."

Then second man was staring hard at Ted. "You're an Elric."

Ted looked startled.

Roy's eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"

The man lowered his sword. "I deliver sake to the palace. Have for years. I've seen members of Princess Ren's Amestrian family. You have that look, even with the bad dye job."

_Thank goodness for family resemblances._ Roy looked at Ted. "Well, there you have it."

"I know I look like Grandpa." Ted shook his head and nodded. "I'm Ted Elric," he risked introducing himself by name. "My full name is Edward."

The man was nodding. The second man lowered his gun.

Roy's blood pressure dropped with it. "If you know the palace, can you get us in?"

"Not so fast," the first man looked at Roy. "Who are you?"

"Roy Mustang… not to be confused with my grandfather," Roy replied, aware of the irony of the names. He just hoped he was believed. "There are men helping the Tiahuan who are responsible for the death of my wife's mother, Sara Elric. Any help you can give us in helping stop this madness would be appreciated."

"You're alka…alchemists?" the second one guessed. Given their families, it was a reasonable one.

Roy nodded, continuing to take point since Ted didn't seem to be jumping in. "We are. If we can just get inside, we can hopefully bring this conflict to a much faster end."

"Not sure about that," the first man rubbed his head. "But even a hot foot is better than nothing. Place is crawling with Tiahuan men, but most of the staff haven't been happy. Hear all sorts of things." He seemed to make up his mind about something. "Huin, clear the couches. It's a couple of hours until morning deliveries yet. Give our guests here a drink and a place to crash. They can go in with the morning delivery."

Huin nodded. "Sure thing, boss." Then he vanished into the back.

Roy heard a soft murmur of more voices before the owner –or so he presumed now- gave him a sharp look and then nodded his head in a short bow of welcome. "I'm Pau. This is my place. Family's run it for five generations and three Emperors. Radio says Prince Tao's fighting to help us, and Prince Shan's inside. Tiahuan claims the Empire's theirs… we'll show them differently." He looked between the two of them again. "Mind your manners in back. My wife doesn't care for rude company."

"I heard at least four voices in the back," Roy commented evenly.

That earned him another hard look. "Guests," he replied simply. "Loyal guests."

Sounded like they had actually stumbled into a nest of insurgents…of the right kind. Roy nodded. "Thank you, Sir." He remembered to bow properly. "Your hospitality is appreciated."

"The boy needs a bed." Pau nodded at Ted. "If you're to be any good later." Then he walked over and locked the front door, muttering something about careless boys.

Roy looked at Ted. He hadn't realized how off-color the younger man looked until now. No wonder Ted hadn't said anything, he looked about ready to fall over at any moment. "You all right, Proteus?"

Ted started, and shook himself. "I feel…" He didn't even finish the comment.

"Well you look it." Roy didn't think he looked feverish, but he was pretty sure whatever effect the rice wine had on Ted, it had just worn off all at once, taking the adrenaline with it. "If you're hung over in a few hours, I'm going to tell you I told you so."

Ted shook his head slowly, then looked like he was sorry he had done it. "They said there was a bed."

"Yeah." Roy put a hand on Ted's shoulder to steady him more than anything as they followed Pau into the back. "Let's get you in it before you face-plant on the floor."

* * *

><p>James thought he might just fall asleep on his feet before Ren had finally retired to bed, and he and Jean had found someone else – James had dragged a friend from his investigations team into it- to keep watch on her tent.<p>

"My feet beat me to unconsciousness," Jean commented, not even bothering to stifle a yawn as they shuffled out towards the camps. "I don't think I've felt them in hours."

"Lucky for you," James griped. "Mine are still complaining." And his head was full. Too full. He knew that there had been no luck in finding his cousin, or his brother-in-law. His father, Cal, and Tore, were seething underneath, and not even entirely bothering to hide it. At least, not to James's experienced eye. He knew them all too well.

James was dealing with his own hidden musings. Guilt, primarily. After the conversation he'd had with Ted the day before, he couldn't help but wonder if it hadn't played a part in this mess. Or at least his cousin's apparent mental distress. First James had told Ted about Krista, then Ted had lost two members of his unit –two friends- in combat and felt that it was his fault. Now Ted and Roy had vanished, and there wasn't anything James could do about the situation.

Or could he? They were off duty now, and while his body groaned and griped with every moment that he ought to be unconscious on his cot, James' mind wouldn't let it rest.

"We don't have to be back on duty at breakfast do we?" Jean asked, a yawn cracking his jaw.

James shook his head. "No, actually, I think we're off until tomorrow…actual tomorrow." He'd have to double check the duty roster, but he was pretty sure he remembered that. And having that time… "Which means we have a day."

"You've got that 'mad genius' look on your face," Jean commented warily.

"I think it may be genetic," James replied with a shrug. "I was just thinking I bet we can figure out where to find the guys who called last night." He didn't mention names, not being sure who was listening. They still hadn't caught the leak.

Jean sighed, but he nodded. "If we can, that would solve a lot of problems. So, leave request?"

James nodded. It was better if it wasn't a mission. Nothing official, and he didn't actually want to tell anyone what they were about to do, in case it failed. But if they could locate Michio and Mao and bring them back, than they might be one step closer to ending this conflict that much faster. "You're with me on this?"

"I am," Jean nodded. "As long as I can catch at least a nap first."

"No problem." James agreed. "It will take me a little while to get things figured out." He just hoped it was possible to trace the call and that the location really wasn't all that far away. And…that he could borrow a vehicle and a map from someone for that long. And… the list kept growing with the slow pounding of a growing exhaustion headache. _Hold it together, Heimler. _He might not be able to do anything about Ted and Roy, but this…this was something he thought he could do that would really make a difference.

* * *

><p>Ted awoke from nightmares in the dark. The sheets he lay on were damp from perspiration. His head was throbbing, his heart pounding the same rhythm. As his eyes adjusted he was aware of dim light coming from a heavily curtained window nearby.<p>

_Blood…so much blood. _Screams and graphic images had followed him into waking, fading far too slowly with consciousness. His sleep had been broken by vivid memories of the day before, combat memories in general, but it kept coming back to Larry, dead, and Clarina, her arm gone, lying in the muck, then lying in bed…and Vera screaming at him. Then it started over…and over.

"Proteus?" A moment later a curtain drawn back let in more light, and Ted winced. The note of concern in Roy's voice was mirrored by a look on his face that was quickly replaced with a slightly mocking grin. "Feeling it this morning are we?"

"Shut up, Mustang." Ted rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Around seven."

"What?" Ted dropped his hand. "Are you mental?"

"Our hosts are waiting for the busiest time of the morning deliveries," Roy cut him off with a casual shrug. "That way we can slip in with the least chance of being noticed."

"Oh." That was logical. Ted wished he could argue that the –by his estimation- four or five hours of sleep he had gotten hadn't been necessary. They certainly hadn't been restful.

"Get up," Roy cut off the reverie. "And get focused. Breakfast's on the table and you'll need that brain of yours functioning with all gears if you're going to get us out of this mess you've gotten us into."

"Me? You came along," Ted pointed out as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the narrow bed.

"I take no responsibility for your foolishness," Roy retorted. "But I couldn't really let you run off and get yourself killed."

Through the haze of headache and bad dreams, Ted had to think to recall fully the events of the night before _after_ he had left Clarina's side. _I'm either a genius or completely insane._ He didn't have to guess which one Roy thought him at the moment. "If we pull the rest of this off, remind me to thank you."

"So you're up for this."

"We've come this far." Ted would tough out the rest of it. He looked at the clothing they had taken the night before, and winced. "I don't suppose we've got something better to wear?"

"Our gracious hosts have these," Roy tossed an outfit on the bed. It looked like a uniform. "We should be less noticeable in those."

Ted picked up the palace uniform and nodded. He didn't ask how they had gotten them. "I wish I knew we could trust these guys."

"I've had a chance to talk with them," Roy informed him. "They're part of a resistance movement to oppose the Tiahuan."

"Well, that didn't take long." Ted felt only mildly reassured. He wished he could shake the uneasy feeling in his gut that had nothing to do with the alcohol he had consumed the night before.

"Lucky for us." Roy turned and left the room. "Hurry up! Food's getting cold."

The idea of food made his stomach turn, but Ted got up and dressed quickly. This was his idea, and he was going to see it through. The uniform fit reasonably well. He borrowed a comb lying on a small table and felt he looked reasonably presentable for a guy who looked like he'd almost been blown up yesterday. Eyeing his hair –the dye job really wasn't great given he had done it in the dark- Ted considered asking if they had hair dye, but it might be a bit late for that now.

Breakfast was a quiet affair on his part. At least, he sat and made himself eat hot rice cereal while Pau and Huin explained the plan they had discussed with Roy while Ted slept. Huin's cart was allowed inside the main palace walls and Huin himself always unloaded his wares into the kitchens. He had brought assistants more than once, so it shouldn't be too difficult to walk right in with Roy and Ted, and have them slip off later.

"It seems too easy," Ted commented when his stomach had settled some and his brain had begun to focus again.

"Less places to screw up," Roy pointed out. "Besides, you just wanted to stroll up in the middle of the night and knock on the door."

Well that hadn't exactly been his plan… had it? Ted shrugged. "I'm not arguing with the plan. I'm just ready to get on with it."

Thankfully Roy didn't try to call his bluff. Ted wasn't sure he could keep it up, but he was sure Roy knew he wasn't running on full power.

After breakfast they put the plan into action. Ted –sporting a new dark-brown hair color thanks to a slightly better alchemical dye-job – and Roy rode with Huin up the road in his truck, with his cargo.

Ted couldn't really follow the conversation Huin had with the man at the gate, but other than a couple of curious looks at Roy and Ted, they passed through without being searched or investigated. The gateman seemed rather harried, and Ted wondered if he even really cared who got in and out. He didn't necessarily work for the Tiahuan usurpers willingly after all.

They pulled up to a door around the back of the palace. ::Let's unload,:: Huin said simply. He had already briefed them on how he wanted that done, so that it would seem more natural.

::What did you tell him?:: Ted finally got a moment to ask when the three of them were alone in the wine cellars.

::That my dead-beat cousins were in desperate need of work and this was your first day. You're supposed to be new hires for scrubbing the floors and general cleaning. Despite the threats, quite a few palace staff escaped after the take-over. When we're done here, you report to the janitorial office and ask for Uro Paxang. He's an old friend of Uncle Pau's. He'll know what to do with you.::

That sounded good, so long as this didn't turn into some sort of elaborate double-cross. Well, if it was, than there wasn't much they could do now except improvise and deal with it. Ted would just have to come up with another brilliant scheme to get them through it.

_That sounded so much more convincing when I was drunk._

A nudge in his side made Ted glare at Roy until the other alchemist nodded sideways towards the door. Time to make their get-away into the bowels of the palace. Ted set his currently armload down, realized they were alone, and followed Roy out of the cellar, down a hall, slipped around a corner, and they were in.  
>"The janitor's office is supposed to be down here," Roy said quietly, keeping his position in the lead.<p>

"Great. Just what I always wanted to do, house work."

At a glare from Roy, Ted shut up. Their Xingese was still not great, and speaking in Amestrian where anyone would here would be a dead giveaway.

More people filled the halls, all dressed in the uniform he and Roy were wearing, and they got curious looks, but the other palace workers were in too much of a hurry to stop and ask questions, for which Ted was grateful. Several looked like they wanted to talk.

They made it to the office with no major interruptions, though Ted's heart was pounding in his chest.

The office itself was small compared to the storage area crammed with cleaning supplies. Ted swallowed his nerves, ignored his pounding head, and approached the desk. ::We are looking for Uro Paxang,:: he said in his best Xingese. ::Pau sent us.:: The man behind the desk was old, leather-worn, but intimidatingly solid for a man his age

That earned him a dark, considering look, and Ted fell silent, sure his accent had given him away. What if this guy was from the Tiahuan Clan? What if he could tell that Ted and Roy were clearly not Xingese. What if—

::I am Uro Paxang,:: the gruff old man said. ::Pau sent you, you say.::

Roy nodded. ::He said you would give us work.::

Uro considered them longer. ::Always doing Pau favors,:: he finally sighed. ::Well, you look sturdy enough.:: He stood up, limped around the desk, and closed the door behind them. "I think you will do."

Ted blinked. "You speak Amestrian?" he blurted.

Uro gave him a smug look even as Roy's elbow connected painfully with Ted's ribs. "When it's convenient. It helps when we have guests." He turned to face them. "We have been expecting Amestrian spies, but had heard they were killed without getting farther than the walls. Frankly, I expected more experienced men. Perhaps you got this far because you don't look at all like spies."

Ted rubbed his side, grimacing, and silently wondered what spies were supposed to look like. "Well, we're here now," he replied, deciding it best not to let him know that they weren't really supposed to be here. Though he really wanted to know how Uro had known to anticipate spies in general, or why he seemed so confident he would have seen them. "Is there a plan?"

"You," Uro turned to Roy. "Will take a cleaning bin and supplies up to the Imperial offices. Naturally Teno insisted on installing himself in the Imperial suites immediately upon his arrival." The last was said with a note of disgust. "See what information you can find."

"Haven't you already had cleaning crews in his offices?" Roy asked, looking skeptical. "Couldn't you have sent someone in to get intelligence at any time?"

"We have, and we do," Uro nodded. "However, the first thing they did was go through and cull our staff, and make note of all the existing, limiting who was to be allowed in at all."

"Then how am I not going to raise suspicions?" Roy asked.

"Because of this." Uro handed Roy a card on a cord. Ted leaned over to see what was on it.

_Security Approved Staff: Deaf, Mute, Illiterate. No combat skills. Security Safety Level, Maximum. Duties: Cleaning._

"They're tagging people like this?" Ted asked in disbelief.

Uro shrugged. "They think it will be more effective. You have to have that card to get in, and you'll have to pretend to be deaf, mute, and illiterate."

Roy took the card and slipped the cord over his head. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"Like you can keep your mouth shut," Ted snorted and dodged another elbow.

Uro turned to Ted and handed him a card. "You will be reporting to the kitchens."

Ted took his own card. _Security Approved Staff: Illiterate. No Combat Skills. Low intelligence. Security Safety Level: Medium. _"Oh great, I'm not even smart."

"Sounds just like you," Roy quipped then seemed to draw into himself for a moment, closed his eyes, and held a hand to his ear as if to mime 'sorry, I can't hear.'

Ted grumbled. "At least low intelligence will explain my horrible grasp of language." He put on the card. The kitchens, that was as much fun as scrubbing toilets. He'd probably get pots. "What am I supposed to do in the kitchens anyway?"

"Report to the assistant head cook," Uro shrugged. "And do whatever she tells you."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 114/2014 **We're BACK! **Thank you all for your patience. It took a bit longer than I anticipated, but I now have plenty of chapters to share with you and the muse is flowing! _


	14. Chapter 14

**February 20****th****, 1984 (continued) **

_Whatever she tells you_ turned out to be a very, very boring assignment. Ted was fairly certain that the assistant head cook had very little to do with any kind of resistance movement. In fact, the middle-aged woman seemed utterly absorbed in trying to get everyone to do their jobs in as timely a matter as possible –quality be hanged, mind you. So perhaps she was, at least, not sympathetic to the current inhabitants.

Ted found himself up to his nose and ears in soapy water scrubbing pots for over an hour before she pulled him away to chop vegetables. Then it was mopping the floors. Then she had him scrub more pots and chop more vegetables. By then, it was lunch time, for the Tiahuan anyway. Ted found himself with a writhing, growling stomach before he was allowed a short break.

He was beginning to wonder if this had all been a mistake. Aside from the fact his head continued to throb throughout the morning, he was getting nowhere, and now he was inside and not entirely certain that they would be able to get out again. Oh sure, he would if nothing really happened today and they got to "go home" at the end of the day. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to believe the day would go that smoothly.

Or, they might spend several days in here trying to find anything. He hadn't really considered that. By now, surely the army had missed them. What if they were declared AWOL?

He had worked himself up to the point of mild nausea when the assistant head cook loomed over him, looking stern. Then she sighed, and pointed at a tray of food. ::Guest wing. Carry it quickly and don't spill.::

Ted came to his feet, grateful for any job that got him out of the kitchen. He bowed, perhaps a bit overmuch. ::Yes, ma'am,:: he muttered, taking the tray. Who was in the guest wing? He doubted it was any of the major Tiahuan generals or other leaders. He had already heard they had taken over the royal apartments. That made him angry, even knowing they were technically just rooms in a building. Those belonged to Emperor Mao and his family!

At least he had some vague idea of how to get where he was going, since the woman felt the need to explain directions very clearly for the "slow learner." So he set out assured that he could at least find where he was going.

The food on the tray smelled better than he had anticipated –better than lunch actually- though not complicated. A peak under the lid showed it to be a simple meal of rice, vegetables, and fish cakes. It made his stomach growl, and he hoped no one else he passed heard it. But then, perhaps a hungry worker was normal.

He thought that this might be the easiest part of his day until he came to the first guard checkpoint. He nodded towards his card and held the meal and said. ::Cook sent me.::

The two stern looking guards looked at his card, shook their heads, and let him through.

There were three more sets of guards before he was flat out stopped. The single guard standing in front of him gave him a funny look –more so than the rest- as he took the tray. ::You're new.::

::First day,:: he replied, hoping he sounded appropriately differential and uninteresting.

::They normally tell me when it's ready.::

Uh oh. ::Don't know, sir. Just… did what I was told.::

The man shook his head. ::Well at least I didn't have to go all the way to the kitchens for it. I'll take it from here.:: He reached for the tray, and Ted had little choice but to hand it over.

Or did he? ::Was told to do it myself…sir,:: he said, hoping stubborn sounded like he was just stupid enough to have taken the order literally.

::You have,:: the man looked annoyed. ::No one gets in to see prisoners except authorized personnel. You can wait here until it's done and carry it back for me. I don't suppose they need you back immediately?::

::No, sir. Didn't say, sir.::

That at least seemed an agreeable response. Ted waited, feeling particularly foolish, as the man unlocked the door, stepped inside, and the bolt was heard again on the inside. Who was important enough to keep locked up like this, but wouldn't be down in the prison cells? They did have a few, Ted recalled, though prisoners were rarely kept in the Imperial palace anymore. They had prisons for that.

As he stood there, waiting, Ted refrained from slapping his own forehead. _Of course! _Who else but Shan might be in that room? Oh, it could be someone else important, but if Ted had to bet on a hunch, he'd take that one. Even the Tiahuan weren't fools enough –or perhaps not brave enough- to put their one Xian-in-residence in the dungeons in the old part of the palace. It also explained why the food, while plain, smelled better than what he had helped serve up for the Tiahuan running the place.

Ted dared to edge up to the door and stick his ear to it, after making sure no one else was in eyeshot in the hallway. The voices were muffled, but he heard the guard, and another guy with a vaguely familiar voice. That only confirmed his suspicions. He caught words too… _Meifen_ for one. They sounded like they were arguing about something.  
>It was several minutes before the guard came back out of the room with the empty tray. Ted was actually surprised it wasn't longer, so perhaps the tray was an old one. It didn't look exactly the same. ::How many prisoners…sir?:: he asked, knowing he was taking a risk. ::Just wondering… if I'll come a lot.::<p>

::This is the only one you'll need to concern yourself with,:: the guard replied briskly. He looked disgruntled, irritated by his conversation. ::Now get back to the kitchens.::  
>Ted nodded and turned, heading back out the way he had come. It took almost as long, because they insisted on checking his badge yet again at each pair of guards. He hoped that the next time he came, the hallway had laxer guards, but somehow he didn't expect that to happen.<p>

At least he could find Roy and tell him that he had discovered where in the building they were keeping Shan. At least, where he was fairly certain they were keeping him. It was probably the only really useful thing he was going to get to do all day.

* * *

><p>Roy made his way through the halls with his cart of cleaning equipment, doing his best to seem as if this was not at all an unusual thing for him to be doing. It helped that he was supposed to be a new hire, because there was no way he could pretend he knew his way around really well. Thankfully, the card got him past three security check-points, as he did his best to stand there and pretend not to understand, and not to be able to speak. The not-reading part was easy, given his Xingese was rudimentary. <em>Why Ted thought we'd make good replacement spies I will never understand.<em> Of course, Ted hadn't been thinking straight in the first place, or they probably wouldn't be here. They could have inserted real intelligence agents in using his entrance method as well as the two of them.

And Roy fully intended to beat Ted into the ground when this was over if they lived through it.

He was stopped at several points on his way up to the offices in question. All he had to do to get through them however, was hold out his ID. After all, he was supposed to be deaf, mute, and illiterate. Which means that they couldn't speak to him, he couldn't speak back, and he couldn't write. Roy decided not to think too closely about how people were supposed to communicate with a man who could not speak, read, or write, but the guards did not seem to question it, and that was enough. Though Roy considered he might have to ask someone about if there was some sort of Xingese sign language that would be useful to pick up. There had to be one.

The offices he was let into clearly belonged to the Emperor; spacious, luxurious, and everything was lacquered and gilded, though tasteful. Though it was clear that the person or persons currently occupying them during the day were of a more utilitarian nature. Tables had been shoved together in a way that was distinctly not visually pleasing, covered with maps, lots of them, marked with troop movements and numbers. _Bingo._

If only he had a camera. That would have been perfect. Unfortunately he didn't have one, so Roy was going to have to get creative, or at least old fashioned. Alchemy wasn't going to help him here either. Still, there was paper and pens all over the place. Grabbing a scrap off the pile –and hoping they didn't count sheets- he started making detailed notes of the locations and numbers and names of everything not just around the city, but leading back up towards Tiahuan Province itself. When he was finished, he folded the paper up and tucked it down under his foot in his shoe as soon as the ink was dry. They were unlikely to check them if searched, he hoped.

Then Roy began to look around the rest of the room, heading straight for the desk. There were several papers lying on top in a stack, but not ones that he could read, because they were all in Xingese.

Or at least, almost all of them. His eyes caught sight of familiar script, and Roy picked up a sheet that turned out to be a letter from the Hashman Syndicate to General Teno Tiahuan. Realizing he did not have time to read and copy everything on the desk by hand, Roy grabbed a sheaf of paper and decided to try something else. He sketched a very simple transmutation circle in chalk on the desk and laid the pages on it, with the new page underneath. Then, with a quick bit of alchemy, he pulled just enough ink down to the second sheet to make a copy.

Feeling pleased when the idea worked, Roy set to work copying everything currently lying out on the desk. It was the best he could do. He had no idea how long he would be allowed to be left alone in here, and the room still needed to be clean or they would know something was wrong.

He did his best to set everything back down exactly where he had found it and in the same order, then hid his copies by using tape from the desk to stick them to the bottom of his cart.

Roy was opening the next set of drawers when he heard several sets of deliberate footsteps in the hallway. Trying not to panic, he grabbed for his cart, grabbed the mop, and began to mop briskly starting in the far corner, working towards the door with his back to it.

The door clicked open and two male voices grew louder as they entered, speaking in sharp, rapid Xingese. It was too quick for him to follow most of it, and what Roy did catch did not sound promising. Mostly what he understood was the frustration in the tone. Clearly, this was not going as well as General Tiahuan had hoped.

Then they saw him. Roy knew because their voices dropped off suddenly, and he could almost feel their gazes fall on his back. One of the men barked a simple question he actually understood, ::What are you doing in here?::

Roy did his best to look like he hadn't heard them, though his heart was pounding in his chest. How long was he going to be able to keep up the charade?

There were footsteps on the wooden floor, and only when a hand touched his shoulder did Roy allow himself to look up and schooled his face to look startled, and perhaps mildly confused. He held up his ID, grateful that a deaf mute wouldn't understand regular Xingese anyway.

The man gripping his shoulder was tall for Xingese, with broad shoulders, steel-gray hair, and a hard expression. Behind him, Roy could see a soldier in palace uniform, and another man in uniform, though over it he wore a robe that said 'pretend Emperor.' That, he surmised, was Teno Tiahuan. Then the guy holding his arm…was some other General.

The scowling face looked at his identification, snorted, and dropped him. ::He's an idiot. He cleans. Can't hear or speak or read.::

::Good,:: Tiahuan commented with a satisfied nod. ::Then he's not a security risk.:: He waved Roy away dismissively and mouthed, very big and slow, ::Get back to work.::

Roy made his face look lost for a moment as the other man let him go. Then he nodded slowly and held up his mop. Then he turned back to the corner, and it wasn't until his mop had made several passes that they resumed speaking, and his heard stopped trying to leap out his throat.

The conversation continued at the previously rapid pace, and without being obvious, Roy couldn't turn to try and follow what they were doing around the table, so he simply continued with his task as if his mother or grandmother were chiding him on how to mop the kitchen floor back home.

Finally, they left. Roy heard the door click shut. The room was almost done at that point, save the area by the table, so he risked turning in that direction. Very little had been moved, but more paper was gone. He moped in that direction, trying not to look like he was reading the papers.

::You're very good.::

It was only years of training that kept Roy from starting. He kept his movements smoothed, and pretended he hadn't heard the man. _Someone_ had not left.

::Extremely good,:: he revised, coming around in front of Roy so that Roy couldn't avoid looking at him.

Roy straightened up a little, but tried to keep a generally service position, and looked at the other man expectantly, as if waiting for instructions of some kind. It was the soldier in palace uniform, a guard presumably. But why was he still here?

::Who are you working for?:: the soldier asked. ::The resistance? Tao?::

Roy made his expression more confused as if to say 'I don't understand you, remember?'

::Okay, not here. Walk with me.:: He gestured towards the door.

Roy considered that for a moment, then gestured around the room as if to say 'but I'm cleaning.'

The soldier sighed in frustration. ::Come on. Now.:: He pointed more forcefully.

_This is it, I'm caught._ Roy did not drop the act though, insisting on putting his cleaning supplies back and following the soldier out of the office, down the hall, back through several checkpoints, until Roy was thoroughly lost as to where they were.

He was led through a door, and startled to find himself standing in a reasonably sized herb garden, though very little was growing this time of year. There was a small greenhouse however, and that was where he followed the soldier, trying not to look braced to fight or flee. He didn't have to feign confusion.

The door to the greenhouse closed behind them, and the soldier turned, looked him straight in the eyes, and said, ::Okay, look, you're good. You've got them fooled because they don't really look at servants. But I do.:: At least, that was what Roy understood.

Roy just stared at him.

::I know you're new, and your acting is excellent, but you're not going to convince me you're actually a deaf mute. I need to know who you're really working with… because I think we're on the same side.::

Roy wished he could believe that. The man was implying that he was not a loyal Tiahuan soldier despite his palace uniform. Given the Tiahuan family crest on his collar, it was a reasonable skepticism.

::I'd ask what it would take to convince you, but I don't see that helping.::

Roy shrugged, looked worried, and gestured back towards the door.

The soldier shook his head. ::I can't be wrong,:: he said, apparently to himself. He growled, glared at Roy, and started pacing like a caged animal. ::You've got to be a spy. I need outside information and I can't do this alone. I can't talk to most of the known resistance. They don't believe me.:: He ran a hand through his dark hair. ::And Teno won't tell me anything about Meifen and the rest. If she's dead…alive…if anything happens to her I'll kill them all.::

As good as his acting was, Roy was aware that what he was watching now was not an act. If it was, the man deserved an award. He was better than Ian. Roy made a decision, and dropped the act. ::They're in Tiahuan,:: he replied. ::Prisoners.:: It was the last he'd heard, and not entirely a certainty. He hoped he was right but supposed it didn't matter if he could get the man's help.

The soldier stared at him for a moment, as if he hadn't actually expected Roy to speak. ::Your accent is terrible.::

::I know.:: Roy shrugged. ::You speak Amestrian?::

"Better than you speak Xingese,:: he replied.

"That seems to be a trend." Roy sighed. "Okay, first off, who are you exactly? Where do you fit into all this? And why aren't you turning me over to Teno Tiahuan and the rest of your goons?"

"I'm Chizan Tiahuan," the soldier introduced himself. "I've been a palace guard for several years. The Princess Meifen is… we're close. Or we were. Most of the resistance does not trust me because of my family."

"Can you blame them?"

Chizan glared at him. "Shan said the same thing. But I believe Meifen still loves me, and I am a loyal servant of the Emperor, whatever my family might think. You and I are in similar danger."

_Except that now that you've told me all this, you could still turn me over without a second thought and get away with it. _"So what are you going to do about it?" Roy asked instead.

"What did you steal from the office upstairs?"

"Nothing," Roy replied honestly. "I didn't take anything that belongs to the general." He would not refer to the man any other way. "Just information. It's not much, but it's something. I have a feeling we won't get away with being in here long."

"We?"  
><em><br>Shit. _"The resistance," Roy covered himself quickly. "You know as well as I do there are members working inside the palace walls. There'd have to be. Any time you have an occupation you have dissenters. They know Tao and Shan are alive. Even if Mao is dead, he has two living sons. You didn't answer my question," he pointed out. "What are you going to do about all this?"

"What can I do?" Chizan growled in frustration.

"You can't just be complacent," Roy replied. "You've got to come up with a plan and implement it; something that throws a serious wrench in the plans." While he was doing it, maybe they could both do each other a favor.

"What did you have in mind?" Chizan looked interested, but suspicious.

Roy's mouth was barely open when he heard voices, then a door shutting, feet scampering, and then the door was opening right into their little hideout.

Roy and Chizan both froze.

The man turned around, and Roy stared at him. "What are you doing here?"

Ted rolled his eyes. "Me? That crazy kitchen lady sent me out here to get herbs for the stew for dinner. What are you doing out here? And who's he?" Ted gestured at Chizan.

"Meifen's lover boy," Roy replied.

"Hey!" Chizan looked insulted.

"Suitor then," Roy rolled his eyes and looked back at Ted. "Have you found out anything useful?"

"Sure have," Ted nodded. "I know where they're keeping Shan."

Chizan flinched then shrugged. "I know this information too."

"So?" Ted looked annoyed. "They let me in and out without any trouble whatsoever. They… you!" His eyes widened as he stared at Chizan. "You're the one who was talking to Shan!"

Chizan stared at him. "You're the kitchen boy from earlier! You're almost as stupid as you pretend."

Ted's face flashed red.

Roy stepped between them. "All right, that's enough. So we all know each other. Saves time on introductions. So if we know where Shan is, why don't we break him out?"

"Impossible," Chizan commented. "You've seen the layers of guards."

"Sure." Ted nodded, his fury shifting to a thoughtful expression. "What we need is some kind of huge diversion elsewhere in the palace, and there won't be anyone worried about Shan down in his dungeon."

Another one of Ted's brilliant ideas. "What kind of diversion did you have in mind?" Roy asked.

A slow, sneaky grin spread across Ted's face. "Something explosive."

* * *

><p>There was just no way the day was going to get better, though Franz was convinced it could get worse. Morning had brought only more bad news. There were more troops arriving from the north, all Tiahuan reinforcements, and their chances of breaking past them into the north sector of the city were plummeting with every passing moment.<p>

No one had located Ted Elric or Roy Mustang despite an extensive search of the camps, and casualty reports were already coming in from the combat to the north, and they were heavy. The reinforcements had come with bigger explosives and better aim.

This wasn't going to be a long war, not at this rate, but it was more brutal than most of the battles Franz had personally fought in over his career. For the day, their strategy had abandoned any hope of pulling enough men and alchemists to successfully break through the south gates. Tao Xian and his Generals were overseeing todays' combat themselves, while Franz held position at Headquarters, coordinating combat more remotely. A fact he also hated. He would have rather been actively doing something.

_And Sara would tell me I'm already doing plenty from right here. _

Franz just wished he felt that way. His initial strategy had been making slow progress until now. And now it looked like it would have to be abandoned. It was time to rethink… and for once his intellect was failing him.

If Sara were there, he was sure she would shake her head and point out something that would become obvious in a moment. A clever way of using the alchemists, or a skill he hadn't known they had, or possibly even a diplomatic ploy.

But Sara wasn't here.

He wished Heymans Breda were still alive. Breda would certainly have had a brilliant military strategy that would cut off the incoming soldiers, or he would have gotten their spies inside in a way that hadn't gotten them killed.

But Breda wasn't here.

Roy Mustang -the original Flame Alchemist- would have strolled up to the front line of combat, flamed the soldiers, and led them triumphantly into the city and right up to the palace, where he would have demanded the instant surrender of every Tiahuan clan member inside the city walls.

Franz didn't have him here either, and nothing he had learned from the three of them was leaping out at him as a functional strategy. Xingese military tactics were far more traditional and limited than Amestrian ingenuity. There was no inspiration there that he could find.

Roy Mustang. Heymans Breda. Sara Elric. Names and faces and strategies whirled in Franz' mind, but nothing poked its head out of the mire to offer itself up as an option with a real chance of success.

The maps spread out in front of him presented a bleak picture. If they had to besiege the city for long, the innocent people living inside the city would suffer further hardships than the strict curfews and lack of trade they were already experiencing. Franz knew that the bombing of the city had ended after the Tiahuan took the city, but he doubted they were offering much in the way of rebuilding or medical assistance, and he knew there had to be injuries.

This needed to end, and quickly. If they did not retake the city, and start providing medical assistance and food, the city was only going to fall deeper into trouble. Yet they could not do so by the techniques currently being used. They were going to have to do something dramatic, clever, and unexpected.

Franz looked down at the map, staring at the walls, looking at the enemy defenses, and where they had, until now, concentrated their efforts. They were committed to the North. Which meant…they needed to pull off an attack in a completely different direction.

"You're thinking hard again," Tao Xian commented, coming into the room. "I can see it in your face."

Franz nodded as a nugget of a plan formed, sprouted, and blossomed. "Yes, but I don't think you're going to like it."

"I don't like attacking my home city at all," Tao pointed out. "What's your plan?"

"The enemy can see where our forces are committed, and we still don't know who our leak is," Franz pointed out, tapping the map. "So what we need to do is plan an attack they can't hear about, and pull it off when they least expect it."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"Our alchemists are going to destroy the Western wall." Franz tapped a spot entirely ignored up to this point, mostly due to the defenses on the walls. "We know we have the power. We wait for the right moment, when the enemy is committed, or sure they know the plan, and then we strike hard. There will be a lot of collateral damage, but if we strike here, there's no residential on the other side, so we should minimalize civilian casualties."

Tao stared at Franz's finger on the wall. "So we blow another hole in the wall. How does that assure us we can get troops in?"

"We make a push right up this street," Franz's hand traced a wide, straight thoroughfare, that led right up to near the palace, though it came up along a garden wall and not an entrance. "It's mostly industrial zone and industry based merchantile; tons of transmutable material. If we strike fast enough, they won't have time to organize a counter offensive."

"What about their defensive forces in the city?"

"Against a full complement of battle trained alchemists? They won't stand a chance. Not if I give the order to act as necessary." Franz would like to think he would not have contemplated it without knowing that the current batch of alchemists were upstanding, ethical people. But, in truth, he probably would have made the same decision in either case. "Of course they will be aiming to avoid civilians, but I would not be surprised if some of your citizens take up arms with us instead of running."

Tao looked thoughtful, and not pleased, but also not as if he were about to say no. "They just might," he nodded. A few moments later the younger man sighed heavily. "The plan has merits. But when would we put it into effect? The situation requires the enemy to cooperate, and for us to make a plan without it being leaked out. We would have to give commands on very short notice."

Franz nodded. "That's t—"

A loud rumble outside sent them both scrambling to the tent door. Peaking out, Franz stared north-east, and saw smoke billowing from a small section of the city…from a section of the palace.

Franz looked at Tao. "That enough of a distraction for the enemy for you?"

Tao gave a dry laugh. "Let's see just how good your alchemists are."


	15. Chapter 15

**February 20, 1984 (still) **

"You think that got their attention?" Ted asked in a not-so-hushed whisper as he, Roy, and Chizan hid in the shadows of a corridor while over a dozen palace guards ran past them in the opposite direction.

"I think they may never forgive you for blowing up the pantry," Roy countered.

"All that flour and corn and alcohol in the cellar? It was the perfect explosive." Ted sighed. "A shame though. Anyway, I think the way is clear now." He glanced out, and nodded, feeling his regret at blowing what probably amounted to thousands of dollars in very good spirits. At least it was for a good cause.

The three of them made their way into the hall, and moved quickly in the opposite direction, but without running, trying to appear as if they were heading that way on orders, or with a purpose other than something as suspicious as their actual plan. What little plan there was. Ted was worried about the plan, and it was _his _idea. _I'm crazy. I really must seriously be crazy to think this is going to work._

Possibly crazier to think they were going to get out of this alive.

They were almost to Shan's rooms when they ran into guards who had not gone running towards the explosion.

::What are you doing here?:: One barked, looking at the two servants with one of their own soldiers.

::Replacing you,:: Chizan tried to look irritated. ::The General says he wants to give everyone a shot at proving their loyalty and skill. Now go!:: he barked it like an order, hoping they didn't stop to remember they were the same rank.

The opportunity was apparently enough. The two guards left.

"That was too easy," Roy said.

"Yes, it was." Chizan did not argue. "Let's get him and get out before they realize they've been duped."

The first challenge was the lack of keys, but Ted had at least been expecting that since Chizan, having not been on guard duty of the royal prison chamber at the time, hadn't had them on him. The regular guards did not have them at all.

A little alchemy fixed that problem, though Ted wasn't sure he could get the lock exactly right again on the way out. Not that he supposed it really mattered. They were going to be getting out of the building as fast as possible as soon as they could free him.

Shan was staring at the door when they entered, glared at Chizan, and then went eyes-wide when he saw the other two. ::Who are you?::

Ted grinned, realizing that their disguises were probably enough to throw his cousin's distant relative. "Ted Elric rescue providers here and at your service."

He'd always wanted to make a jaw dropping entrance. But Ted didn't have time to relish it too much as Roy pushed past him and headed for Shan, using a quick snap and a flare to melt cuffs and chains right off of him without a bit of damage.

"Show off." Ted grumbled.

"Efficient," Roy retorted. "We've got to get out of here."

"No argument," Shan said, though he eyed them all. "This is definitely the strangest rescue party I've heard of." He gave Chizan a particularly long look.

"He helped us get in here," Ted said, feeling the sudden urge to speak up for the other guy.

::Shan, you know my loyalty is to your family, even over my own,:: Chizan spoke hurriedly. ::My life is yours. Command it.::

Shan rubbed his wrists only a moment, but it felt longer to Ted. This whole thing was taking too long. Couldn't this wait? ::You will stay,:: Shan ordered after a moment. ::Prove your loyalty by remaining here.::

"What?" Ted stared at Shan, wondering if he'd misheard.

Chizan blanched. ::If that is your order…but why?::

::We will need a spy,:: Shan replied. ::You will send information out. They trust you because of your birth. If you love my sister, you will not fail us.::

Chizan bowed. ::As you say, so will I do.::

At least, that was what Ted thought they said. Following them was getting only slightly easier. He really needed to see about studying more Xingese when they got out of this.

"We need to go," Roy said. "Before they find us and blow this plan up in our faces."

Ted nodded. Once they got out, there was no getting back in, but they needed an alibi for Chizan. "The guards know we replaced them, we need a convincing explanation."

::Lock me up,:: Chizan suggested, reaching for the cuffs. ::Then, knock me out. I'll tell them you turned out to be traitors sent in undercover who knocked me out, freed Shan, and ran away. It's truth enough. We can break a few things so it looks like it was a major brawl.::

::And you went down fighting?:: Shan offered a smile and a shrug. ::All right. But, for realism sake…:: He slugged Chizan in the nose, and with a wet crack, it began to bleed.

Chizan grimaced. ::Fair enough.:: Then he ripped the sleeve on his own uniform, ruffled his hair, and let them cuff him. Then he lay down while they busted up the room with a little alchemy and shoving over antique furniture.

Ted grimaced as a particularly nice vase shattered on the floor. ::Let's go,:: he said, worried they would come back to check the prisoner.

::All right.:: Roy nodded in approval of the destruction. ::Are you ready?:: he asked Shan, who didn't look too much the worse for wear given his imprisonment. At least, not compared to stories Ted had heard of other war prisoners.

Shan nodded. "We will take the back halls. If we come out the servant's door to the east side, we should be able to get into the city without too much trouble. After that, we have to find a way to reunite with my brother and the army."

That was the way they had come in. Ted poked his head back into the hallway. "No sweat." He could find his way back there… probably.

Outside, something exploded.

* * *

><p>Take advantage of the chaos; that was the order. Blow the western wall sky high if they had to and make a road into the city.<p>

Tore was fairly certain his lightning-bolt to the central power-grid of the city counted, even if it didn't make the wall explode. That he saved for the second bolt, which met water pulled from city pipes in mid-air for a fantastic collision of force. Alchemists, on orders, threw everything they had at the wall from fire to flying boulders the size of cars. Energy crackled in the air as they pounded the wall again and again.

Under the violence and variety of attacks, the wall stood little chance. Still, it felt like it might be too long to Tore, who knew that if the enemy forces broke through their line to the North while they were attacking the wall, they'd be flanked and half the alchemists run over before they had a chance to alter their attacks.

So, the alchemists removed the wall. Tore felt a surge of satisfaction as the walls crumbled and collapsed, half the rubble shattered to dust in a matter of minutes.

"Nice hole in the wall."

"That's not a very nice way to describe Tao's home," Tore snorted, fully understanding what Cal really meant.

"You should really learn to take a compliment." Cal stepped past him as the dust cleared and they could see into the city for the first time clearly. Then he cupped his mouth with his hands and bellowed, "First and Second units forward! Secure the wall! Third and Fourth units, follow and prepare to secure the city!"

Tore had the First and Second units under his command, and Cal the rest. It sounded so simple when Franz had given them the orders: take down the wall, get inside the city, take back the city. That meant engaging with the enemy in street-by-street combat, trying not to take out civilians along the way. It would be messy, and tricky. Very tricky.

Tore just hoped their alchemists were up to the task. They had been given a very specific order to carry out; aim to transmute rocket-powered projectiles _before_ they launched, taking out the areas around them and protecting the intended targets. Presuming that they could locate the launch points. They had to…but with no widespread communication or pre-planning, they would be making a lot of it up as they went.

Which was, Tore thought, exactly why he and Cal were assigned to this mission. Who better to send running blind into a situation that you had to be crazy to agree to in the first place?

_Yeah, crazy. That's us._

* * *

><p>The engaged them faster than Cal had thought possible. Not that he wasn't prepared for the eventuality, but he had hoped that their surprise would have bought them a little more time. His men had secured a corridor two blocks wide six blocks into the city when soldiers started appearing around corners. Cal knew they had to have come from the palace as well as the city, a few of them wore the livery, though most clearly had the look of having been on patrol, policing the city.<p>

"Spread out," Cal spoke quietly to the handful of alchemists beside him. "Get behind them, locate anything explosive, and detonate it where it lies."

"Sir." His hand-picked team vanished around the corners. Cal had picked them as much for their backgrounds as their alchemical abilities. All of them had talents that excelled where fire, heat or other chemical reactions were concerned, and all of them came from less-than-stellar backgrounds, not unlike his own, or Tore's. Two of them had spent time as homeless boys on the street, stealing for food, relying on sneaking to get by. One had tried his hand as a professional escape artist. The others had been used as spies before. Quiet, quick…deadly.

Cal kept the rest of them advancing down the front, though not foolish enough to walk down the middle of the street. At least, not most of them. _Time to play target._ Cal took a deep, calming breath, and walked out into the street, moving towards the barricade forming in front of him. ::Give up now!:: he shouted. ::Your wall is useless. Your numbers are small. You need not lose your lives in a fight that is already lost.::

The man he picked out as commanding the troops scowled and looked insulted. He did not yell back, much to Cal's disappointment. He hated it when someone ignored a good taunt. Instead, one of the men took a shot at him.

Cal already had his gloved hands at the ready. He transmuted a blast of water that ripped from the pipes below the street, and dodged. Though he felt –or imagined he felt- the heat from the bullet passing his ear just before he slammed shoulder-first into the ground and rolled. No rockets were launched, but there was plenty of hot lead to go around.

_So much for luring them out. Time to really make them sorry._ Cal gritted his teeth as he pressed his back into the side of a car that was now riddled with holes. He found himself looking forward –perhaps too much- to being able to follow through with Franz's orders not to hold back. There wasn't a civilian in sight. Many had fled back towards the opening in the wall as soon as they saw the Amestrian and Imperial soldiers passing.

Cal directed his spray of water down the street, slamming it full force into the men and their attempts at a barricade, shoving them backwards into the building behind them at the t-juncture of the road. "Forward!" he bellowed again.

Somewhere behind the lines, a rocket launched into the air.

"Take cover!"

Cal dove back out of the street, but the explosion still send him tumbling head-over-heels until he slammed sideways into a large garbage dumpster, the clank ringing in his ears. A sharp pain twinged in his shoulder. He scrambled to his feet, blinking grit out of his eyes.

From the direction of the launch, he heard an explosion echo off the city walls, and saw a plume of dark smoke. _Good work, boys._ He doubted that was the only location, but they would find the others. They had to find the others, especially now that the had proven they were willing to fire inside the city limits.

* * *

><p>"So much for vanishing into the city," Roy commented as he stood with Ted and Shan, briefly overlooking the city from the vantage point of a row of windows two floors about their exit. Beyond them, to the West, and to the North, was the ravages of war. Fires were spreading, and inside and outside the walls fighting was fierce. Explosions could be heard through the glass, and one or two had enough force they felt the floor tremble, even inside the palace itself.<p>

"At least they won't be back soon," Ted commented. "No one will notice us in the chaos. Everyone's got to be running scared."

"But it's going to be harder to get out without a clear path," Shan pointed out. "There are too many people for us to make a quick exit back to the army, even moving with them."

"We could join the fight," Ted suggested. "They won't be expecting us from behind."

"Won't take them long to take us out either," Roy shook his head. "No. We go out the East wall and make our way around the city, however long it takes. Shan's life is worth more than the damage we'd be able to do right now."

"I'm more expendable than my brother and father," Shan said with a shrug.

"That doesn't make you any less a member of the family. An unarmed one who is also not an alchemist," Roy pointed out, and while he did not meant to be cruel, there wasn't time for niceties. They hadn't seen a single weapon on their trek back to the servants' doors. Shan would be next to useless in a fight against a well-armed group. "Let's get back, report in, and then get into the thick of things and get in on our share of the fun."

"If this is fun," Ted said as they kept moving, "Remind me never to go with you on vacation."

Their plan lasted about as far as the outer gate through which they had driven that morning.

The roads were already packed almost to a standstill with people. Half of them, however, were not moving away from the fighting, but towards it, carrying anything they could get their hands on that could be used as a weapon, include many swords that had probably hung on walls for generations as family heirlooms.

"Well, now what?" Ted asked, looking irritated. "We'll never get to the east wall through this."

"We'll have to try, and find someplace to lay low until nightfall," Roy suggested, not wanting Shan to be recognized. Not yet. That might attract the wrong attention. If anyone in this mob was heading to help them instead of hinder them –Roy could not be sure- than Shan's recapture after escape would be sure to earn someone a very nice reward.

"I hate hiding," Ted groused, but he nodded and turned, heading down a street towards the place where they had spent the night. "Let's start with someplace familiar."

* * *

><p>Night fell, but the skies seemed no brighter, only more vibrantly terrifying, as the clouds above flickered and danced in the gold-and-red of the fires below, occasionally punctured by a scream and explosion of brighter bluish-white, flashes of green, billows of dark acrid smoke… alchemists and technology, battling it out block by block, street by street, paving stone by paving stone.<p>

They couldn't move faster. The deeper in they went, the more civilians they found, hiding in their homes, cowering in street-corner shops, just trying to stay out of the way and not get killed. The invasion, half evacuation, went on and on… getting people out to minimize casualties. Cal could do little for the buildings they had lived in. Some of them went up in flames, others exploded in chunks. Windows blew out from the force of the blasts, leaving empty holes that looked down upon him in the night as if to chastise him for his part in the destruction of such a beautiful city.

Cal would care later. He could barely feel his legs from walking, climbing over rubble, and having been tossed into the sides of buildings, or diving behind objects in the street to avoid coming to an early end. His feet, however, burned from forming blisters, and he was reasonably certain he had cracked at least two or three bones, not even including his ribs. He knew the feeling too well.

But they were making progress. The only report Cal had gotten from the North outside the walls had come in the form of a radio to his communication's sergeant who reported that the unexpected split had caused some disarray among the troops, though Cal should be prepared for an attack from his left –to the north- if the soldiers outside the city split and they sent in more forces.

It would be foolish to do so, Cal thought, but then he would have thought it the height of idiocy to try and overthrow the Emperor of Xing too. Maybe he needed a more creative imagination.

Destructive as it was to property, Franz' strategy had done what it needed to do; catching the military force off guard, allowing them to get this far. Cal's men held a corridor that neatly cut across the city, quartering it to the West, and allowing them to wrap nearly half-way around the palace walls. Teno was now as much a prisoner in his stolen gilded home as he had been a conqueror. Not that it had stopped his men from doing a lot of damage to Cal's Amestrian-and-Xingese forces, but they were losing control of the city, and Cal wasn't about to let them take a breather.

"New message from Headquarters, Sir," the sergeant joined him at his latest temporary viewpoint, the top of a four story building. "The forces outside the wall have allowed three units to split off the back and they are moving towards the northern gates. Also… there are reports of at least twenty thousand more soldiers coming south along the railways."

Cal swore under his breath. "Geez, don't these guys have anything to do except breed?"

"I…don't know, Sir."

"It was a rhetorical question, Sergeant. I suggest working on your sense of humor."

"Yes, Sir."

**February 21****st****, 1984**

The dawn sky outside the window was mostly gray, and cold, save for the blush of rose that tried to peak through the clouds every so often, and drop a single ray of sun like a lance down to the earth below.

Michio took another sip of dark Xingese Oolong and shook his head. Sleep deprivation and stress seemed to make him poetic…but he wasn't sure it was any good. It wasn't as if he had anyone to share it with. ::How are you feeling this morning, Uncle?:: he asked.

Mao was settled in bed, sitting up but leaning against a small mountain of pillows. He held a cup of tea of his own, and seemed to be savoring even the smallest sips. ::Better.::

::That's what you said last time.::

::And it continues to be true,:: Mao replied wryly. ::It may not be much better, but it is improvement.::

Michio decided that the return of his uncle's wry sense of humor was the best sign he was going to get of the man's continued survival for the moment. His health seemed much more stable at least, for which Michio was grateful.

A soft knock on the door made him look away from the bed and window, though Michio had already grown used to the sound. He recognized the hand behind it.

The door opened and Milan entered the room with a breakfast tray for them both.

Michio smiled. ::I was going to come down and get it,:: he objected, though not strenuously.

::No need.:: Milan smiled back. ::Though you should know that you have guests downstairs.::

::Guests?:: Mao looked over at her with concern.

Michio felt mostly curiosity, though he understood his uncle's worry. ::Who are they?::

::Amestrians,:: she replied. ::I didn't tell them you're here yet, though they've asked for you.::

::Did they give you names?:: Michio asked, his heart picking up a bit with excitement. Had they managed to trace their location from that radio signal? If they really were Amestrians, there was no concern that they might be enemy spies. At least, he thought, unless they were Hashman Syndicate men. That dampened his spirits.

::They are military men,:: she replied. ::They said their names were James Heimler and Jean Stevens.::

Mao's eyes showed recognition at the first name. Michio knew them both. ::What did they look like?::

::The first, lean with short, dark hair and glasses. The second, tall with slightly longer hair, blond. Their accent is definitely Amestrian. Heimler's Xingese is better, though neither speaks overly well::

Michio smiled. ::I will come meet them. I know Heimler and Stevens, if this is really them.:: If it wasn't them, than he wouldn't tell them his uncle was here.

He followed Milan downstairs, promising not to be gone long, and was thankfully she pointed them out from the stairs first. James and Jean Stevens were sitting at a table in the main dining area, sipping hot cups of tea and looking bleary eyed and impatient.

Relief filled him at the sight of familiar faces. Not that he knew Jean Stevens all that well, but his cousin James was a whole other story. Michio hurried down the stairs and crossed the room. They saw him before he arrived, and James was immediately on his feet, looking as reassured as Michio felt as they closed in a back-thumping bear hug.

James stepped back first. "Thank goodness. I was beginning to think we were completely off base in our calculations."

Jean settled for a handshake. "How is he?"

"Stable," Michio replied. "Thanks to Milan and her family."

The men looked behind Michio, who had noted Milan's footsteps following him across the floor. ::Then we all owe you a debt of thanks, Miss,:: James said.

::Anything to help the Empire,:: Milan replied with a small shrug, though she looked pleased. ::What will you do now, sirs?::

::Get us all back as soon as possible,:: James replied, and turned back to Michio. ::We are out of time. Can you both travel with us? We brought a van.::

::We can,:: Michio replied. If they had limped this far, they could manage a drive to the front. ::What's the plan?::

"Let's talk as we move," James suggested.

Michio nodded and led them back towards the stairs. They didn't need to speak in front of everyone. Someone might understand them, even in Amestrian.

They went back to the room, where Mao's face lit up with recognition as both of the men bowed respectfully to him. "We've come to bring you both back to Tao's main camp," James explained. "We're pretty much out of time to do so unless we leave shortly, and we brought an unmarked van so there's no reason we should look suspicious. We thought it safest to bring you behind military lines before making the announcement of your survival. If you speak to the people, Sir, it seems the best way to prove your survival and rally them."

"Reasonably enough," Mao nodded, looking slightly amused. "But you say you are short on time. What is our timeline?"

"Well…really, it's because we're out of leave," Jean Stevens admitted. "We took this particular mission upon ourselves, Your Eminence." He looked a little startled that Mao had addressed them so easily in Amestrian.

"We have been serving as some of your sister's personal guard," James replied. "Aunt Mei insisted on coming and we've been searching for you in many secret hideouts. That's how we found some semblance of your trail. Tracking you both down has been quite a challenge," he grinned.

Michio couldn't help smiling. "That was the idea," he admitted. "Though it wasn't you we were trying to evade."

"Not bad for a civilian," James chuckled. "All right. If you're up for it, we'll get out of here. The sooner we can prove to the rest of the country you're safe and alive, the faster we can wrap this whole mess up."

"Don't be too optimistic on schedules," Mao suggested as Michio stepped in and assisted him in getting out of bed. "My survival isn't going to end this. Teno is not a man who gives up. There is a reason he was a celebrated General in many circles before this. He will have more than one plan, and he will not make easy mistakes."

"You didn't mention he was such a kill-joy," Jean commented to James and Michio.

Michio smirked. "You might be too if you spent days living in a cave eating cold canned foods."

The banter eventually ceasing, they took Mao downstairs and carefully loaded him into the backseat as comfortably as they could manage. As much as the Emperor might want to pretend he was no longer ill, he was not yet back to health.

Michio turned to Milan, who had followed them down the back, keeping an eye out for unwanted visitors. ::Thank you for all the help you and your family have given us.::

::We would do anything for the Emperor,:: Milan pointed out.

Michio smiled. ::I know. But that doesn't mean you had to be so nice to me.::

That earned him a smile in response. ::You I helped, because you're a nice guy.:: With that she stood on her toes and kissed him briefly on the cheek. ::I hope to see you again someday, Michio. Go and be well.:: Then she turned and hurried back inside.

Sure he was grinning like a fool, Michio got into the back seat next to his uncle.

Every man in the car was smiling at him, even his uncle.

"Let's go," Michio said, pretending to ignore their expressions as best he could. "You did say we were in a hurry. How long is the drive?"

At that James –who was driving- grimaced. "Less than a day, presuming we don't run into trouble."


	16. Chapter 16

**February 21****st**** , 1984 (Still) **

Broom closets were not Edward's favorite place to spend his time, but at the moment, he was getting fairly fond of this one. He pressed his ear against the tiny hole he had transmuted in the wall between this room and the one adjacent.

It was more than a little snug, with Alphonse sandwiched between Ed and the door, mops and brooms and buckets cluttered around them, but it would be worth it if they got useful information out of this opportunity.

Getting inside the factory complex had been easier than Ed had feared it might be. Transmuting employee uniforms had been simple once he had seen one and picked up fabric. There were so many men constantly going in and out that security was surprisingly lax. Ed supposed that they didn't expect trouble this deep inside home territory.

Lucky for him and Al.

The trick had been getting into the right building without any idea what they were looking for. Carefully tracking higher level employees –notable because they wore suits in the current Xingese fashion instead of laborer's outfits- had proven they most often came out of the building Ed and Al were now inside, and that the main office was on the other side of this very broom closet.

So as long as no one came along and wanted to know what two old men were doing snuggled up in a broom closet instead of working, they were fine. Al had transmuted the door shut just in case.

"Hear anything?" Al whispered.

"Small talk," Ed grumbled, "Now shut up." It was hard enough to hear as it was. "Breathe softer or something."

"I'll get right on that."

Chairs scraped in the other room, and Ed found himself almost holding his breath to hear as the general chatter fell silent. That didn't make the place quiet. The machinery and belts of the large factory and the murmur of workers' voices still made it less than ideal spying conditions. The men in the room weren't speaking all that loudly either.

::…wish that damned Hashman Syndicate would shut up and demonstrate more patience,:: a deep voice grumbled. ::They should be grateful we made a deal on that first shipment at all.::

_First_ shipment? So what was the one they were waiting on now? And where was the first one?

::Especially given the level of ordinance in the first,:: a second voice, this one softer, complained louder. ::These Westerners, no manners at all.::

::At least they pay well,:: a third voice commented. ::They were desperate enough to agree to half-again the price we hoped to get. How close are we to finishing that order? I will be glad to be rid of it, and them.::

::Just a couple of days if all runs on schedule,:: the first guy, Deep Voice, spoke again.

::It had better,:: Softer Voice replied irritably. ::We have enough to do with our own business. This has already gone on too long. We need the foreigners distracted as quickly as possible.::

::Once the Syndicate has what they need, they will provide all the distraction we could hope for,:: the third voice, whom Ed dubbed 'Stuffy Voice,' continued. ::The Amestrians will not be expecting an attack on their home country while they are try to depose our Most Gracious New Emperor Teno.::

Not good…definitely not good. Ed swallowed, ignoring how warm and stuffy the closet was getting. What was the Syndicate planning to do back home with all this stuff. Ed had anticipated getting to the rockets before the Syndicate could, but if this was already a second delivery, that meant the Syndicate already had rocket-based weapons at their disposal.

::They are fools,:: Deep Voice chuckled dryly. ::Well, down to business. Let's look at the numbers from this quarter. Our investors will want to look those over before our next meeting.::

The conversation quickly turned to accounting and funds and into specific language that Ed, despite years of Xingese, couldn't quite follow. Still, he stayed there, cramping in unpleasant places, until the meeting ended and the room emptied nearly an hour later. Finally, he exhaled and moved his arm up to wipe sweat from his brow. "Damn it's hot in here. That's it."  
>"Anything interesting?" Al asked, not sounding too hopefully. This was the third time they had managed to blockade themselves into this closet for the purposes of listening in on meetings, and the first two had been utterly useless unless they were interested in marketing strategies for holiday sparklers and small fireworks.<p>

Ed nodded. "Hashman's already got rockets, and it sounds like they're planning an attack back home. The are counting on it to distract our troops here and give them an advantage in taking control of Xing."

Al swore under his breath. "We've got to get out of here and find a way to contact home."

"I'm sure I can hack a phone wire somewhere," Ed whispered. "Okay, let's get out of here before I suffocate in your sweat."

"It's no picnic being cramped in here with you either," Al quipped as he quietly transmuted the lock open again. "You smell like garlic and soy sauce."

* * *

><p>Trisha Heimler stood up from her desk at HQ and was half way to the door to go home when the phone rang. Hand on the knob she briefly considered pretending she was already gone. Reluctantly, she turned around and grabbed the receiver. "Whisper Alchemist speaking."<p>

"Ma'am, this is Lieutenant Signs in President Rehnquist's office."

"What is it, Lieutnenant?"

"The President would like you to attend a briefing he's giving in five minutes."

Five minutes? She was going to be late getting the kids, but there was nothing for it she supposed. Trisha sighed, but only in her head. If Rehnquist wanted someone as low ranked as her in on this, it had to be something unusual.

Or maybe, it occurred, to her as she hurried out the door with a new destination, he wanted someone from her family in on it. No one else was here.

The room was packed with upper brass when Trisha arrived, and she tried not to feel out of place as she took a seat at the lower-ranked end of the table. It was clear that the subject of discussion in this room most days was the war in Xing, given the maps spread out and pinned up all over the place. Yet there was currently a map of Amestris, and another of Central, covering most of what had been up on the walls.

Trisha wanted to ask what was going on, but decided to keep quiet and wait. The answers would come soon enough.

A couple more people hurried in, and then President Rehnquist, seated at the head of the table, stood up. "My apologies for calling a meeting so late," he said, "But we have received intelligence just this afternoon that the Hashman Syndicate reportedly has rocket-based weaponry in their possession that may already be within or near Amestrian borders."

Silence fell heavily across the room at his words.

Trisha's throat tightened.

"Do we have any idea where they might be?" Colonel Mallorn asked.

"At this time, we have several possibilities." Rehnquist did not look at all pleased by this prospect. "All of their known or suspected activity areas are already under surveillance. We will tighten that watch, and we will tighten security at all military locations and for all important military personnel and their families. There is no reason to expect them to strike at public civilian targets given their arguments have always been with the military and state alchemists. So it seems most likely that whatever targets they have planned will be strategic military ones, or the private residences of state alchemists."

That started a quiet rumbling in the room.

Which meant even her home wasn't safe anymore. Her children weren't safe. Trisha felt anger bubbling up inside her, along with a spike of fear she forcibly suppressed. "What local security measures are we putting into place that can protect anyone from rockets, Sir?" she couldn't help asking. She was impressed her voice came out as calmly as it did.

"Round the clock security details. I know it means more work for the military police and any officers we can spare, but having a constant presence and not giving them the opportunity to set explosives up is a top priority and should be manageable. We will have all our explosives experts and special teams on double-duty until this crisis has passed."

Who knew how long that would take.

"Excuse me, Sir," someone she couldn't see for all the faces spoke up, "But just where did we get this information?"

Rehnquist offered a tired look that had just the hint of a smile in it. "Two civilian informants, retired military, offered to do a little undercover work for us. They managed to get a call through to my office with this information less than an hour after hearing its verification. This is no prank, no hoax, no fake. We will remain on heightened alert until we have apprehended every Hashman Syndicate member in Amestrian borders, and outside it if we can manage. However, that means extra vigilance for each of us personally as well. High profile targets will be assigned to security teams. That includes several of you, and myself, who will not be leaving this building tonight unescorted. Be on guard. Protect each other. Protect yourselves."

**February 22****nd****, 1984**

Tore resisted the urge to rub smoke and grit out of his eyes yet again as he stood atop a heap of rubble at what they were referring to as the new "West Gate." Fighting had not waned much overnight, though soldiers had pulled back enough to focus on keeping the city from burning down.

Part of the night –on both sides- had been spent putting out fires and dealing with the mass exodus of civilians choosing now as the right time to get out of the way. Not that they all did. Many had gone to ground, too afraid to leave, and Tore had assigned smaller units to searching the buildings to be sure they were empty and non-combatants were safely removed… and that the enemy wasn't setting up sniper positions without their knowledge.

The wall, here at least, was secured. As the sun had risen, he had heard renewed volleys of combat both to the North, and to the East, where Cal and his units were still meeting some resistance around the palace, where the were understandably holding a defiant line to protect their new self-proclaimed Emperor.

Having taken the wall, and other than assisting the smaller and smaller groups of civilians making their way towards safety, there was very little for Tore's units to do. He had already sent the First and half the Second north, where they currently held those soldiers who were trying to come in the North Gate at bay with street-by-street fighting tactics and barricades. With Tao's forces outside harrying them as well, the were at a near stand-still on that front. All that remained here was the rest of the Second.

Tore stepped down off the pile of rubble and began walking to the North. He wanted to check on that line for himself, though he knew it to be in good hands. He had good men under his command, and good commanders. It was a rare combination, but one he appreciated highly at the moment.

Especially as he was running entirely on adrenaline. He couldn't even claim caffeine at this point. He had been up all night without more than a few sips of luke-warm water from a canteen to sustain him. Given the opportunity to sit down, Tore was certain he would have passed out in seconds if he let himself do it.

Alas, sleep might be a long time coming. They had broken the siege, which meant that there was no choice but to slug it out.

Exhaustion could wait. There was a war to win.

"Sir!"

The shout got his attention and Tore turned, recognizing the second lieutenant running toward him as one of the communications officers. "Lieutenant?"

"General Heimler would like a word with you in person, Sir. He requests your presence immediately."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Tore changed direction, heading back towards the hole in the wall. He requisitioned one of the trucks to get back to the main command center, cutting travel time down to only fifteen minutes. When he arrived, he took a moment to dust himself off, then stepped inside.

"You wanted to speak with me, Sir."

Franz looked more alert than Tore did, though he couldn't imagine how, given they had both been up all night. He knew Franz wouldn't have slept. "Yes, I wanted your report in person. Safer that way."

Of course. They still hadn't determined their information leak. Tore nodded and reported orally in detail. Franz listened intently and took notes, nodding occasionally and asking Tore to repeat details only once or twice. The fact that he needed the repetition at all told Tore that Franz was running on fumes as much as Tore was.

"Anything else, Sir?" Tore asked, stifling a yawn by swallowing it.

Franz shook his head. "No. I've sent General Hines out to relieve you temporarily. I'll be sending Parsons out to give Fischer a reprieve shortly. Can't have Command making mistakes for lack of rest. Take four hours, get a bite to eat, and report back here for further orders."

Four whole hours…how generous. Tore refrained from sarcastic comments. This was just how war was. He'd gotten used to it. "Thank you, Sir."

He left the command center with two thoughts on his mind, food and his pillow.

At least until he passed the communications center and noticed that there wasn't a line for the regular phone lines. On a whim, he ducked inside. It would be earlier back home, but that meant someone might actually be at the house, even if it was Monday morning.

Tore checked with the communication's officers on duty and was informed that he was cleared to use his few allotted minutes for a personal call home if he so desired.

Hungrier for news of his family than even food, Tore waited while the communications officers patched him through their encrypted networks and connected with lines going towards Amestris.

* * *

><p>Dare Closson gulped in air as he ignored the sweat dripping in his face. <em>Two-hundred ninety-six. Two-hundred ninety-seven. <em>His abdominal muscles were burning, but it was a good burn. It was the feeling of muscles getting stronger, responding to training; his body fine-tuned. He might not be an alchemist, like his father, but he had been thinking long and hard for years about joining the military, or at least the military police. For either, he needed to be in top physical condition. Thankfully, that wasn't a hardship. He was naturally lean and athletic, and he liked the activity.

He was in the middle of his three-hundredth sit-up when the phone rang. _Good timing._ He unrolled, coming to his feet easily and grabbing the towel he'd had on the floor to wipe his face with as he left the living room and walked into the kitchen. Feet thundered above his head, heading for the staircase. "I've got it!" he called out as he grabbed the receiver. His siblings could wait. "Hello. Closson residence."

"Nice to know you haven't forgotten your manners," his father's voice came across the line with a tired chuckle.

"Dad!" Dare's spirits lifted at the surprise. He hadn't been expecting him to call, or even be able to call. "You found a phone." _Oh, now there's a brilliant deduction. _

"Yeah, we did. It's finally my turn to use it," Tore said. "How's everything at the house?"

"Just fine," Dare assured him. "Though the cat tried to steal Mom's roast off the table the other night. Mom made him sleep in the laundry room."

His father chuckled again, though he sounded out of practice at it. Dare could only imagine what was going on outside of what the news was reporting. "Seen much of Lorraine lately?"

A civil war, and his dad was asking about a girl. "Yeah," Dare replied. "Every day at school."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yeah, well, a guy's got to have some secrets," Dare teased. Not that he had much of anything to hide from his parents, especially his father. Given the stories Dare had heard about his father –and especially from him- there was nothing he, Dare, had ever considered doing that was likely to get him in trouble.

His answer got a snort from the other end of the phone. "You two are still going to the dance together I assume."

"Of course," Dare replied. "As if I'd let anyone else take my girl."

"Good." There was a heavy yawn on the other end of the phone. "Make sure you show her a good time. Is your mom around?"

Upstairs, Dare though he heard the shower turn off. "Yeah. She's in the bathroom. But the bugs are here," he chuckled as Brandon and Camelia poked their heads in the room.

"We're not bugs!" Camelia huffed. "I want the phone!"

"I suppose I could hand it over," Dare said contemplatively. "But whoever gets to Mom first to tell her Dad's on the phone gets it first."

That sent them both scrambling back up the stairs shouting.

"Devious," his father's voice came across the line again.

"Learned from the best," Dare replied. "Are you all right, Dad? You sound exhausted."

"Been up a couple of days, that's all," his father replied, and Dare knew he wouldn't get any real details over the phone. There were things that just couldn't be said. It would all be on the evening news anyway. "It's intense, but going as well as can be expected."

More footsteps, now three sets, and his mother appeared with both of Dare's siblings in tow.

"Mom's here Dad," Dare said, feeling a twinge of bitterness at having to give up the phone so soon. But he knew he didn't have much time. "Talk to you later."

"You can tell me all about your hot date when I see you," Tore promised.

Then Dare handed the phone over to his mother, and Charisa pressed it to her ear. "Tore? Honey, how are you?"

Dare set about making breakfast for everyone so they wouldn't be late to school. Normally everyone made their own bag lunch, but he figured Brandon and Camelia deserved as much time with Dad as possible too.

And after all, someone had to be man of the house until Dad came home.


	17. Chapter 17

**February 22****nd****, 1984 (still) **

"So much for scenic Imperial City," Ted grumbled as he pushed a curtain of fallen laundry out of his path. It had been hung up to dry at some point, but now it dragged in the dust, filthy and forgotten. His next few steps brought him to the top of a hill, where he could see out across a good portion of the city. The West side behind them was a shambles from what he could see in the settling dust and rubble.

Roy nodded. "It will be rebuilt. At least the palace still stands."

Shan merely looked at it for several moments in silence. "Let's go find my brother," he said softly, also in Amestrian, before turning towards the East wall. "You can get us out?"

"Yeah." Ted walked up and, despite his exhaustion, transmuted a tunnel through the wall just big enough for the three of them to walk out single-file. On the other side, he closed the wall. "When no one's looking, it's not hard to get through your walls. You might want to consider making them harder to transmute," he suggested to Shan.

"I'll suggest it to my brother."

The trek back around the city took time, but was eerily lonely, Ted thought. He flinched at the first several sounds he heard as they skirted the edges of the city, staying out of sight of the walls by hiding in copses of trees, hedges, and staying behind the few small homesteads outside the walls. Unlike Amestrian cities, that had long ago overflowed their protective walls in suburban sprawls, the Imperial City had remained an impervious fortress save for very few ways in. At least, until now. Still, Ted felt like it should be more difficult to get back. "How did we walk this far without being seen the first time?" he asked Roy after a while.

"I don't know," Roy replied, looking mildly annoyed. "I was just trying to make sure you didn't do something stupid while you were drunk, remember?"

"Well I didn't," Ted pointed out, letting himself sound a little smug. He knew it would annoy Roy. "We even successfully rescued a son of the Emperor of Xing."

"If you turn me into the rescued princess from a story, I will challenge you to ritual combat," Shan commented, though there was little humor in his voice.

Ted sobered. It had to be difficult for Shan to see his home city in near ruin. "By the time this is over, we'll all be war heroes," he suggested glibly instead. When – heck he was ready for it all to be over now. The nightmare of what had happened only days –was it even days?- ago was still too painful in his mind, too new. He had to force his thoughts to stay on the task at hand, which he found harder now that he was fully sobered up. Clarina's face, her cries, her blood, kept rising in his mind unbidden. _I'll talk to her as soon as I get back,_ he swore to himself. They just had two important packages to deliver.

They were on the main road back into camp when Ted spotted a familiar figure moving towards them. "Colonel Closson," he saluted Tore, who gave him a started look as he approached.

"Where the hell have you boys been?" the Shock Alchemist barked, hurrying his stride, his expression furious. "And who's that with you?"

Despite the obvious fury in Tore's eyes, Ted couldn't help grinning. "We've been doing a little espionage work, Shock… sir. We have top secret information to hand straight to our commanding officers only, top priority."

Now Tore looked as curious as he did angry, which made for a unique expression. "I'm not bringing unknown quantities into the command tent, Major."

Roy shrugged. "We've been inside, Sir. We have documents from the 'supposed' emperor's offices, and we've rescued his most prized prisoner." He gestured to Shan. "Though you may not recognize him given his stellar care at their hands."

Tore squinted at Shan for a moment, and Ted hoped that the family resemblance was recognizable. He realized he didn't know if Tore and Shan had ever met. Tore didn't say anything for several seconds, then he nodded. "Follow me."

They were escorted directly to the secondary command tent, which was heavily guarded –but only by Amestrians, which Ted found interesting. The dimmer light inside was welcome after the brightness of the sun outdoors.

Franz and Tao were bent over the strategic maps that were weighted down all over a table in the center of the room. They both looked up as the four men crossed the threshold, and the two internal guards reached instinctively towards their side arms.

::Brother!:: Tao came around the table so quickly that it rocked and wobbled, and in a moment Tao an Shan were locked in an entirely undignified bear hug.

Franz and Tore both looked quietly perplexed, and the guards relaxed their stance as Shan and Tao slapped each other's backs, hugged again, and laughed until there were tears of joy.

::How are you here?:: Tao asked finally, looking from Shan to Ted and Roy. Ted had decided it best to keep his mouth shut until they were addressed again. It was easier that way, given his head was still throbbing slightly.

Shan chuckled. ::These two crazy Amestrians broke into my room and said it was time to go.::

"You were in the city?" Franz stared at Ted and Roy very hard. He glanced at the guards, and flicked his hand. In unison, they stepped out of the room through the door Ted and company had just entered.

Only when the door was closed did they answer. Roy looked at Ted as if to say _Your show._

Ted swallowed and stood at attention. Franz – General Heimler – did not look pleased. "Yes, Sir. It occurred to me that… well… the only way you were going to get spies into the city would be if there was no way anyone knew they were coming in advance. So – if you didn't know – it couldn't be leaked."

"So you took it upon yourself to sneak into the Imperial Palace on your own."

"Yes, Sir." Ted nodded, feeling beads of sweat break out on his forehead. He couldn't tell exactly what his uncle was thinking, except that right now the fact that he was his uncle was entirely irrelevant. "Major Mustang should not be blamed for his actions, Sir. He followed me to talk me out of it."

"Which he clearly failed to do."

"Permission to speak, Sir," Roy said at last.  
><em><br>Took you long enough._

"Granted." Franz looked even longer and harder at his son-in-law. "Make it good."

Roy pulled the papers out of his clothes, and handed them out. "We have information, Sir, if it can be translated fully, that provides military intelligence regarding not only the plans for the Empire, but current military movements, plans, and other correspondence. These documents were copied alchemically and removed from the Imperial office itself."

Tore took the documents out of Roy's hands and handed them not to Franz, but to Tao.

::They're legitimate,:: Shan told his brother. ::I've perused them myself.:: While they had been hiding out, waiting for the dust to settle –sometimes literally- there had been little else to do. ::And I have made contact with resistance cells within the city. There are people who will continue to side with us and fight back.::

Silence fell as Tao systematically looked through all of the documents. Ted continued to sweat, and wondered that he felt warm given the weather. Maybe his nerves were shot worse than he'd thought. No one looked inordinately pleased. No one was slapping their backs and congratulating them on a job well done.

Finally, Tao nodded. ::Useful. Shan, stay with us, and we will make plans.:: Then he turned back to the table without a word to Roy and Ted. ::If we plan now, we will have no one to leak our plan to outsiders.::

::I will be with you in a moment.:: Franz said to them both, before he came across the room himself, getting up so close to them that Ted resisted the urge to step backwards. "While I cannot deny that your – unorthodox- tactics have provided us with exceedingly useful information, and a convenient distraction in the city –I assume that explosion in the palace was your fault- I am not at all pleased with your conduct –either of you." His eyes flicked between Ted and Roy, before settling fully back on Ted. "You in particular, however. Colonel Closson, please find a suitable punishment for both of our wayward Alchemists. Put a citation in each of their files for this breach of conduct and… a commendation for their efforts." The last sounded as though he almost regretted saying them. "You-" he pointed at Roy. "You will follow Shock and report back into the city."

"Yes, Sir." Roy saluted and followed Tore out of the room.

Ted was now the sole subject of Franz Heimler's ire. He swallowed.

"You, Proteus, are assigned to the camp until you get your head on straight. I'll want a full report from you later. For now, get out of my sight and stay out of trouble or you'll be on the first train back to Central."

"Sir, yes, sir." Ted saluted sharply, a bitter twist in his gut. What they had accomplished apparently didn't matter as much as disobeying orders and a breach of the rules.  
>Franz nodded. "You're dismissed."<p>

* * *

><p>Ted had no intention of going back to his tent. Not immediately. His camp would be empty, with everyone on the lines, injured – or dead. Instead, he decided to follow up on the promise he had made himself first, and returned to the camp hospital.<p>

He didn't even get the opportunity to speak to a doctor or someone who could tell him if Clarina was awake when he was accosted by Vera, looking just as miserable and sleepless as she had the last time he saw her –and no more pleased to see him either. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I heard you ran away."

"I was on a mission," Ted replied, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping. He didn't need to tell her more. "I came to see if Clarina's doing better."

"You're too late. She's gone."

His stomach plummeted through the floor. "What?" No!

Vera shook her head. "You idiot. I mean she left this morning on a train to Central. They sent home all the injured who could travel and anyone given medical discharge. And…and the bodies."

Ted didn't ask which list Clarina fell under. She'd lost a limb. If she wanted to stay in the military, that would still mean surgery, and then years of auto-mail rehabilitation. Still, he didn't feel much better. She was alive, but she was gone. "I- I need to talk to her."

"You don't deserve to go anywhere near her," Vera replied vehemently, arms crossed under her breasts. She turned to walk away. "She's better off away from you."

Ted was too hurt, and too worried, to retort. All the things he wanted to say, and he wouldn't be able to speak with Clarina for months at best. He could call her in Central, of course, but he couldn't imagine telling her the things he needed to over the phone. No, they would have to wait until he could see her again in person.  
>It was already too late to apologize to Larry.<p>

Larry dead. Clarina wounded. Vera so mad she hated him. It hadn't taken long for their team to fall apart, had it?

With a weird numb yet twisted agony, Ted stumbled back to his tent long enough to grab his toiletries, only half aware of what he was doing as he went to the showers and rinsed the dye out of his hair. Only when it was its normal shade of blond again did he allow himself to collapse on his bed. Despite himself and his overwhelming sense of guilt, he passed out in a matter of seconds.

* * *

><p>The land around them was beautiful, if chilly. The further north they travelled, the less it felt like spring. Minxia tried not to shiver, wrapped as she was inside a warm Xingese coat, made for the weather. It was a gift from the Yao family. As was the one Thrakos wore, which was even thicker –a subtle jibe, she suspected, regarding Thrakos' more hot-blooded home climate.<p>

It had been five days since they had left the Yao residence and her grandmother behind with a unit of Yao soldiers, moving to the border, though quietly. The plan was to insert themselves inside the border before the announcement –which would be made publically that afternoon- that Grandma Mei had not only escaped and was safe, but had allied with the Yao against the . The political tempest of Xing would explode at that point, Minxia was sure.

A much larger body of Yao soldiers had started stirring up trouble along the border at another point, over a day's drive south of their location, to help draw attention.  
>That didn't mean Minxia felt good about it as she and Thrakos walked Eastward with their armed escort. Their mission was not open warfare. Locating the rest of their kidnapped family and getting them out would be plenty of trouble without drawing the attention of 's seemingly endless resource of soldiers.<p>

"You okay?"

Minxia glanced up at Thrakos' quiet words. Apparently she had shivered anyway. "I'm fine," she assured him, though she unburied her fingers from her pocket enough to take his hand. "Just a lot to think about." Like their entire plan and every possible contingency.

"Everything will be fine," he assured her, squeezing her fingers. "As soon as they announce your grandmother has things in hand, everyone will be far too busy to even notice us until it's too late."

"That's a sweet thought, but I doubt it." Minxia did not expect an entire coup, especially not one going this strongly, to fall apart because of a single radio and television broadcast. "I'm ready to do whatever I have to do to end this, and bring my family out safely."

Thrakos looked worried, his handsome brow furrowed. "We brought soldiers for a reason, Minx."

"That doesn't mean we won't have to fight for our lives – or someone else's," Minxia replied in little more than a whisper. "They took children. Peina's pregnant. If we don't get her out soon, she might just have to give birth while she's captured. I can't let that happen." She hated that they had missed their opportunity to take the trucks before they crossed into territory. "Even if they weren't my family, taking them is unforgiveable."

Her ferocity seemed to have startled Thrakos, who was giving her a considering look.

"What? I can't care?"

"It's not that." He shrugged, but looked decidedly uneasy. "I've just never thought of you as a kids person."

"Have you seen my family?" Minxia chuckled. "We breed like field mice."

Clearly Thrakos hadn't really seen her family in that light, because he blanched slightly, and Minxia couldn't help wondering if he was reconsidering his many less-than-subtle attempts to get them alone in an intimate situation. Not that it was likely right now, surrounded by Xingese warriors.

Thrakos cleared his throat. "You have a point. It's not like I don't have cousins either just – not as many."

Minxia had met most of Thrakos' family during her time in Creta. Both his younger brother and sister were still single and childless, and his Uncle Ziro's daughter the same. There were some extended cousins with kids, but Thrakos didn't see them all that often. "Our side isn't as bad as Great-Uncle Edward's," she said, though she doubted that was much reassurance. "But it's something to consider before –you know- it becomes an issue."

"We'll plan the wedding first," Thrakos chuckled. "One thing at a time, okay?"

"If you can behave that long," she couldn't help tweaking his pride a little.

He leaned over so he was whispering in her ear, "I've waited for you this long, haven't I?"

The warmth in his voice made her feel flush. When they got out of this, there was a whole life together waiting for them.

She had to make sure they both got out of this.

::We're here.::

The quiet words of the man walking point in the formation ended the softly spoken conversation. There was nothing in particular to mark the boundary at this point. Between one tree and the next, they were in Province.

* * *

><p>The cityscape had grown quiet. Looking out at it from the vantage point at the top of the hill, Renxiang Xian Elric could almost imagine that she wasn't here with an Amestrian army, trying to wrest her beloved home city from the hands of an unfaithful traitor to the Empire.<p>

Almost. The smoke from combat and fallen buildings, the dust, was still settling. Teno was still in her family's palace, but he was surrounded, a captive now as much as anything, no matter how he tried to convince the people otherwise. Her nephews' army had managed to retake the rest of the city, with the help of the Amestrians, and soldiers and alchemists were now firmly entrenched. If the wanted the city back, they would have to get past the Imperial-Amestrian force staunchly parked outside the northern gates. The fighting on that front had been hot and heavy, though Ren had only seen it from a distance, much as she did now, standing with her nephews.

Tao and Shan both looked tired, though Tao looked far less grim than he had the past few days, thanks to his younger brother's rescue that morning. Ren had not had the opportunity to speak personally with Roy or Ted yet, to thank them for saving Shan and fetching the intelligence they had unearthed, which had proven to include much of the military strategy and timeline, as well as many of their base locations within their own territory.

::There's a truck coming.::

Shan's comment drew Ren's eyes away from the city to the small road that led up the hill to the village their camp had taken over. It wasn't marked, but she recognized it –she thought- as a military truck. ::Is it ours?::

Tao pulled out binoculars. On the ridge, Ren could see soldiers training their weapons on it as a safety precaution. The truck pulled up to the make-shift gate, and stopped. ::Yes, it's definitely ours. It looks like Heimler and Stevens have returned from leave.::

::Where did they go?:: Ren hadn't seen her self-proclaimed body guard since they went off duty, but she hadn't expected them to leave camp.

::I'd like to know that myself.:: Tao was frowning.

Whatever they said to the guards, they were let through the post, and the truck continued on up the hill. It took only a couple of minutes before it was lost among the tents, only to appear again coming straight towards the command tent, and the edge of the ridge on which they stood. ::It looks like we're about to find out,:: Shan commented with a chuckle. He looked better than he had that morning, thanks to a bath, a shave, a good meal, and a change of clothes he had borrowed from his brother.

Where would they have gone? Ren couldn't help but wonder as the truck pulled up to them. Even having passed the check point, the armed guard that stood with her and her nephews on the hill stood between them.

"Is that any way to greet heroes?" James asked, grinning tiredly as he waved from the driver's seat. Jean Stevens sat beside him, looking nearly as smug. It was only then Ren realized they weren't alone. There were people in the back seat.

::What have you brought us?:: Tao asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ren saw Franz coming out of the command tent to see what was going on.

James opened the door and got out. "We went to fetch some things that belong to you, Cousin.::

The back door opened, and Michio stepped out, grinning. The crowd between them parted as Ren ran forward, only barely aware she was moving until her arms latched around her son in a bone-crunching hug that was immediately returned. Tears escaped her eyes but she didn't care who saw. She had spent weeks worrying about her son, and even knowing he had managed to escape _with_ her brother, and evade capture had not made her worry much less. The certainly had searchers out for the Emperor of Xing as well. She smiled. ::You need a haircut.::

Michio laughed. ::Love you too, Mom. But I'm only half of your present.:: He straightened up and took a step back, grabbing her hands and pulling her towards the truck.

She was vaguely aware of Tao and Shan following behind them.

Mao.

Tears welled all over again as her brother was helped from the car by James and Jean. ::Thank goodness,:: Ren wrapped her arms around her brother in a hug that was much gentler, but no less fierce.

Mao chuckled, hugging her back. ::Easy, Little Sister. I wish I had time to set up a banquet to welcome you properly.::

Jokes. If Mao could joke, than he would be all right. At least she hoped so. He had clearly been ill for a while. ::We should be doing that for you,:: she countered. ::You're too thin.::

::I'm in trouble when a doctor says that.:: Mao let her go reluctantly, but didn't need help staying up, as he was immediately wrapped in the arms of his sons. ::My boys,:: he smiled, his voice heavy with emotion. ::I hear you've been doing an excellent job of giving Teno hell.::

::We're trying,:: Tao chuckled.

::I haven't done much,:: Shan admitted. ::I just got out of the house.::

::A couple of crazy Amestrians decided to break in and wreak havoc,:: Tao added, though he was still smiling. ::They brought us valuable intelligence, as well as breaking Shan out.::

::I'll have to thank them,:: Mao smiled. ::We owe a few crazy Amestrians some thanks when this is over.::

"I feel so loved," James chuckled. "Maybe more people should be a little more crazy."

"No argument there," Ren admitted, offering hugs to both James and Jean in turn. "Thank you so much for bringing them back here, but you've wasted your leave."

"It's hardly a waste, ma'am," Jean replied, his grin broken by a yawn which he quickly covered with his mouth.

::It's true, Ren.:: Mao let go of his sons, a more serious look coming over his face. ::We need to set up a live radio and television feed as soon as possible. I want to make an official announcement to all of Xing, to dispel the lies that I am dead. If the true Emperor lives, than Teno loses even the most tenable grasp on any claim to my throne.::  
>Ren did not ask if he was well enough. The Emperor did what he must for Xing. ::We will see it arranged at once,:: she assured him, ::But you will let me have a proper look at you, and lend you my strength.:: She didn't care what other doctors had cared for her brother, they had clearly not been alkahestrists, or not of her level.<p>

::Thank you,:: Mao placed his hands on her shoulders. ::I will submit to your care, Sister. It would be best if I do not look halfway to death's door when all of Xing sees my face.::

* * *

><p>Franz was feeling more than a little put out with the actions of his family over the past few days. Not that he objected to the outcomes. Shan and Mao both rescued and returned safely. Michio as well. It was all well done, but none of it on proper orders, and much of it against them and without notice.<p>

There was part of him that was impressed with the ingenuity and luck of Ted and Roy, and determination of his son and Jean Stevens. Yet he was angry and frustrated at them for not reporting their intentions –or whereabouts- to their superior officers. James and Jean, at least, had been on leave. Roy had gone in the interests of protecting Ted, and while Franz was angry, at least his son-in-law had been trying to prevent Ted's crazy plan from blowing up in all their faces.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do with Ted Elric. His nephew had totally ignored the chain of command. Even in the name of avoiding a leak, it went against every military regulation. The fact that he'd dreamed up the crazy scheme while drunk after a traumatic battlefield experience did not excuse his actions.

Franz hadn't seen his nephew since he had dismissed him earlier, though he had been assured when he sent an aide to check, that Ted was passed out unconscious in his tent. He could stay there for a while.

::All right,:: the radio specialist said from his corner of the tent, ::We're almost ready Your Imperial Majesty.::

::Thank you,:: Mao replied.

Franz turned his attention back to the events going on in front of him. The communications tent had been turned into a makeshift radio and television studio, so that Mao's message could go out, live, over both mediums. Some ingenious techs had even managed to patch in so that it would cut over most television channels and half the major radio stations.

Lights, the nicest chair they could find, and a rigged backdrop from an old velvet curtain borrowed from a nearby house were hardly the Imperial throne room, but it looked a lot better than having Mao make his announcement in a folding camp chair. A flag carrying the Imperial crest had been hung behind him, and Mao had borrowed a formal robe of red and black from somewhere. Even without the formal trappings, he looked every inch an Emperor as he sat, patiently waiting while everyone bustled around him.

Ren stood at his side, speaking softly. Franz knew that she had insisted on an intensive alchemical healing session before allowing Mao out of a bed long enough to prepare this production. She had also insisted, not on traditional formal Xingese make-up, but a touch-up that had been done on Mao's face to make the circles under his eyes and his pinched, recently-ill look, nearly vanish on screen. Franz had glanced through one of the cameras earlier and had been impressed. Mao looked tired and wan, but in better shape than the reality.

The quiet was broken by a sudden squawk from the radio equipment. A several note tone, followed by a voice. ::We interrupt your broadcasts this afternoon to bring you a very important announcement.::

::What?:: Tao looked at the radio, startled. ::What's going on? Who is that?::

::We don't know, Your Highness,:: the radio tech looked flustered. ::Someone's beaten us to interrupting every standard imperial radio broadcast frequency.::

They fell silent.

The voice that came over the radio next made voices drop.

::This is Mei Xian, Imperial Mother of Xing. I speak to you, the people of Xing, to denounce the traitor Teno and his attempts to destroy our unified Empire. Reports of my death are false. Reports of the capture of my family are, however, not. I escaped from forces and have been given sanctuary by the loyal family of Yao. Yao stands with the Empire. Xian stands with the Empire. Chan stands with the Empire. I live. My grandson's life. The line of Xing is still unbroken, and lives to serve the people of the Empire. Do not allow traitors to destroy what we have built these past two generations. Our Amestrian allies have come to our aid at the behest of Tao Xian, Imperial Prince of Xing. They keep their promises. As we helped them, they came to help us. Be strong, and do what is right.::

The radio went quiet, then returned to playing the interrupted instrumental music that had been on before.

Mao was laughing. ::Begin broadcasting,:: he told the crew. ::Quickly.::

There was a moment of frantic scrambling, then the radio crackled again.

Mao did not wait for introductions. ::My mother always did like to beat me to a dramatic entrance,:: he chuckled, his words carrying out over the airwaves. ::People of Xing, Your Emperor, Mao Xian, lives. I speak to you from temporary military headquarters, outside the Imperial City. With me are both of my sons, alive and well. Prince Tao has performed admirably in my stead, and Prince Shan was rescued from Teno 's imprisonment this morning by heroic Amestrian allies. has no claim on the Imperial throne. As my esteemed mother has already said, we must all stand together. The do not wish to preserve Xing tradition, but to corrupt it to one viewpoint. Do not allow their foolishness to return our mighty Empire to petty in-fighting. We lost many, quite needlessly, to generations of internal strife. I wish no more of my people to die needlessly. I am here, my people, in your esteemed service. Stand with me, as I stand with you. This is only the first of what will soon be regular reports you will receive, as we fight to end this coup. Province has broken the Imperial Peace. They must be stopped, and they must face justice at the hands of the Imperial Courts. Be well, my people, and stand strong in your trust that your Empire exists to protect and serve you.::

::And, cut.::

The broadcast ended, the radio crackled, and Mao slumped slightly in the chair, looking far more tired than he had moments ago.

Ren reached out, placing her hand on his arm, and Franz noticed the tell-tale blush of blue where her hand touched him; a transfer of alchemical energy.

Mao nodded. ::Thank you. I think that did it.::

::Mom has amazing timing,:: Ren commented, offering a supportive smile. ::I can't believe she's managed to talk Yao to our side.::

::We'll be contacting them immediately,:: Tao said as he offered his father a hand out of the chair. ::Shirong Yao is a good man. If Grandmother is there, than we have another ally, and one that borders . That will be very advantageous to us.::

::To bed with you,:: Ren said to her brother as they helped him from the tent. As he reached the door, Mao pulled himself upright, and strode out as if he hadn't been sagging just moments before.

That was leadership. Franz found he felt a little envy at how Mao carried on. His wife, his daughter and daughters-in-law, his grandchildren – all of them were in enemy hands. He had nearly died. He had lost his home, and yet he was confident, composed; the Emperor of Xing was Emperor above all else, a servant to his people.

_Sara would say it's not that different from being an alchemist._ His father-in-law gave off that aura sometimes as well, of being completely in control in times of utter chaos. Edward would have been pleased with the creativity shown by their family today if he were here. Franz could already imagine the man's rapt attention as he heard about Ted and Roy's exploits, and Michio's rescue of Mao, and how James and Jean had brought them both back. All of it right under the noses of Xing traitors.

Sara would have reacted similarly, if he was honest with himself. Though she would still have found an appropriate disciplinary measure for Roy and Ted going behind even her back on the chance that a hunch wouldn't destroy what they had all been working for. Instincts, she had always said sometimes you had to trust your men to follow those above orders. Alchemists were like that. Those measures would have been off-the-books too. She wouldn't have ruined someone's career over these kinds of actions, not when the outcome had turned out favorably.

_You used to be more flexible like that, didn't you?_ Franz asked himself. He remembered his own decision to follow the Flame Alchemist on his last great mission. It had almost gotten him killed, but he had gone. Was it because no rules had been broken that he'd been okay with it? That entire mission, even approved, had been based on the assumption that Roy Mustang could do something no one else could, and his conviction that he could pull off something no one had ever tried before.

And Franz had followed him in on the faith that Roy Mustang would succeed, and Franz could cover his back. He'd done it, in part, because it kept Sara from going. The rest… because he had wanted to. He'd felt he had to be the one to go.

More importantly, in combination with these events, his tactics had worked. Perhaps it was time to stop thinking quite as by-the-book.

Which meant he would have to think seriously at some point as to exactly how to deal with his subordinates.

He turned to leave the tent, though the words of the communications officers behind him did make him smile.

::The chatter's incredible! Are you hearing this?::

::Everyone's debating the return of the Emperor and his Mother. The timing of those was perfect. Do you think the Imperial Mother knew?::

::I don't know how she could have, but this is going to change everything!::


	18. Chapter 18

**February 23****rd****, 1984**

"There you go," Alyse straightened the pillow beneath Charlie's head where her son lay on the couch. "Nice and comfortable. Do you need anything else?" She'd made sure he was comfortable in front of the television, with orange juice and a snack, though he wasn't eating much.

A nasty stomach bug, but not life-threatening according to Ethan, who had seen him early in the very early morning when Charlie had woken up with a fever and throwing up everything he had eaten the night before. It had been two days and he was only now past keeping down water and plain toast.

"I'm okay," Charlie replied weakly, his voice sounding scratchy and raw. His face was flushed, and however tough her son might normally act, even at fourteen he was still her baby at moments like this. "I feel kind of pathetic though – can't even – lift a comic book."

"Rest." Alyse kissed her son's forehead. "And finish that juice."

"Yes, Mom." It was a measure of his illness and exhaustion that her son was not only lying still on the couch, but made no argument at all.

Alyse just hoped she wasn't coming down with the same thing. She'd felt mildly queasy and warm all day, with a growing headache, and was glad she'd been working from home the past couple of days to take care of her son until he could go back to school.

She left the television tuned in to one of the general network stations, which was currently running some program meant for younger kids, but she suspected Charlie would be asleep again in a few minutes. It was more for the noise to help him sleep.

Glancing at the clock, Alyse headed towards the kitchen to start dinner. Gloria and Kamika would be home from school soon, though she expected they would choose to study next door, which was their usual preference. Alyse didn't mind. It kept Will and Ren's place from being completely empty while they were in Xing. Gloria also liked practicing her dance over there, which was much easier without Charlie and the cats under foot.

Dinner for four in an hour; Alyse wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap for a few minutes, but that would have to wait.

And it was put off even longer by the ringing phone. Alyse was tempted to ignore it, but it rang, and rang – and rang. Finally she gave up. Whoever it was was very insistent. "Fischer residence," she picked up the phone, sounding a little more waspish than she'd intended.

"I didn't do it," an achingly familiar male voice came across the line.

"Calvin?" Alyse almost dropped the phone in her surprise.

"You mean you didn't know it was me and you answered with that much venom? Should I be jealous?"

Hundreds of miles away in a war zone and he was joking. Alyse couldn't decide whether to bark or cry. "It's been a rough day," she admitted, too tired to try and coat anything. The words just slipped out.

"What's wrong, Honey?" His words, filled with concern and genuine worry, were all it took to send it all spilling out.

"Oh… a lot." There it went, and Alyse found herself babbling on about the stress of being swamped with work, the extra security following them everywhere for protection, getting the children –all three- to everything on her own, and finally, "and Charlie's sick, and I'm pretty sure I'm catching whatever he has, and…."

"Easy, Sweetheart," Cal's soothing tones were like a salve on her raw nerves. "Please don't cry. It'll be all right. Maybe you should have the girls cook tonight. You sound like you need a break."

"I'm sorry," Alyse sniffed, reaching for a tissue from the box on the counter. "I didn't mean to dump all this on you, when you've found time to call-"

"Well I'm glad you did," Cal replied, and Alyse wondered if she'd hurt his feelings. "I want to know when you need me. I just wish I could be there to make it better."

"I wish you were here too." While he was asking for honesty, Alyse felt a little easier giving it. "Are you… coming home soon?" she asked hopefully, though she doubted it from the news broadcasts. Maybe Cal knew more than them.

"Not yet," Cal replied, sounding grim. "We've taken back the city, but you've probably seen that all over the news. We've got Teno trapped in the city, but we've still got to deal with the whole army, and they're not giving up on trying to hold on to the territory they've already claimed. I can't say more than that, but it's going to be a while before I get to see you and the kids. It's driving me crazy not being with you, 'Lyse."

Her heart fluttered, hearing the longing behind his words. "Well, don't do anything stupid," she said, trying to find a smile, and hoping he'd hear it. "Coming home broken would really put a damper on our reunion."

There was a pause, then a chuckle. "That it would. I'm doing my best not to get shot or blown up, trust me. Honestly, I'm more worried about you." The humor went from his voice again. "You said you've got security?"

"Amestris' best, aside from you of course," Alyse replied. "I can't go anywhere without them these days. They're taking the warnings of possible Hashman Syndicate activity very seriously, especially after what happened a couple of years ago." Even now, she had trouble using the word kidnapping in the same sentence with her son. "Though they're discrete about it, and they have female officers keeping an eye on Gloria and Kami. Charlie's getting a little tired of the short leash though."

"I bet."

"Telling him every major assembly member and military officer's family is putting up with it doesn't seem to be helping," Alyse admitted. At least, not before Charlie had fallen ill. "I can see if he's awake. He'd like to talk to you."

"I have a minute, put him on," Cal agreed eagerly.

Alyse stepped around the corner so she could see the couch. "Charlie?"

She heard a grunt. "Is that Dad on the phone?"

"Yes. He'd like to talk to you." Alyse was glad the phone cord would reach the couch. She took the phone to Charlie and let go once it was settled under his chin, near his ear.  
>Alyse made herself go back to cooking dinner, though it was only a few minutes later when she heard Gloria and Kamika come in, and Gloria steal the phone away from Charlie to babble at her father.<p>

"Dad has to go soon," was all the warning Alyse had when Gloria handed her the phone back. "I'll finish that," her daughter added with a smile as she stepped in and took over making the dinner salad.

Alyse did not complain. "Will you be able to call again soon?" she asked, hoping for at least that much. Weeks without word outside of a couple of short, hasty letters was not nearly enough for her.

"I don't know," Cal replied honestly. "I'll try, but I don't know when the next time is I'll be near a phone. Listen, you take it easy and rest up too, okay? You won't do anyone any good running yourself too ragged." There was a pause. "I've got to go. Give everyone a hug for me. I've told the kids that both of them need to give you a hug from me, after Charlie's feeling better for his," he added. "I love you, 'Lyse."

"Love you, too," Alyse replied softly as the call ended. She set the phone back down very slowly.

Gloria and Kamika had taken over the kitchen when she turned around. Gloria gave her mother a knowing look. "Go take a nap, Mom. It's going to be a while before dinner is ready. Kami and I can handle food and get Charlie anything he needs."

"All right," Alyse agreed gratefully. "But wake me if there's anything critical."

"Of course, Mom." Gloria said, smiling, though she looked a little teary too. They all missed having Cal home. "But I don't expect anything more earth-shattering to happen than getting dinner on the table."

* * *

><p>Meifen Xian did not know what day it was. She did not know where she was either, except that the room in which she and the other women and children of her family were being held was a prison, no matter how you looked at it.<p>

The room was not a dungeon, though it was an interior room of a house, with solid walls –not paper— and no windows. There were sleeping pallets for the floor and one traditional low table. It was still crowded when the beds were rolled out, seeing as she was sharing the room with Shan's wife and son – Xenia and Bano – and Taos' wife Peina, and his daughter Taia, as well as her mother, Jiu.

They were taken twice a day, one at a time, to use the baths and relieve themselves. The food was plain, and the proportions small, but they weren't being starved. At least, it was enough for Meifen. She felt sorry for her growing niece and nephew, and even more so for Peina, who was only a few weeks from delivering. Barely twenty days in captivity, but with each day, Meifen was more convinced that this conflict would not be over quickly.

They were not given news, unless it was good for . While it was better in this room than on the road.

Meifen hoped her Grandmother was all right. Her escape had been the only brief moment of hope in their journey. Something must have happened to her, to not have come back for them. Or perhaps she had tried, and failed. Grandmother was a talented alchemist, but even an old woman could only do so much against armed soldiers.  
>Her thoughts were broken by an uncomfortable grunt. Meifen looked over at Peina, who was lying on her pallet, head resting on a cushion. ::Are you all right?::<br>Peina offered her a reassuring smile that never made it past her lips. One hand rested on her belly. ::Just trying to get comfortable,:: she said. A moment later her stomach growled loudly.

::You should eat.:: Meifen looked at her own bowl, which still held a portion of her dinner of rice. Plain rice. ::Here.:: She slid it across the distance between them.

::I can't take your meal,:: Peina objected.

::You will,:: Meifen insisted. ::Because I'm giving it to my nephew or niece. You both need nourishment. Tao will forgive neither of us if you do not take proper care of yourself and your child.::

::It is best,:: Jiu agreed, giving her daughter-in-law a firm look.

Peina did not argue further, but propped herself up enough to reach the bowl. ::Thank you.:: She finished the bowl in only a few bites. ::I think sometimes I shall never be full again.::

::We'll get out of here,:: Xenia said, sounding more convincing than Meifen could have managed. Shan's wife was sitting at the table across from her. The children had passed out together on the floor on a blanket. ::We have to.::

::The will not win,:: Meifen nodded. ::Tao will not allow us to remain captives, no matter what the cost. He would not miss his child's birth.::

::Or Shan's.::

Meifen and Peina both looked sharply at Xenia. Whose face flushed just slightly.

::You too?:: Peina asked.

Xenia nodded. ::I am certain of it, though Shan does not know. I had only found out and, it seems unwise to let this on to our captives.:: Though it would become evident the longer they were kept.

Jiu looked startled, then smiled and squeezed her other daughter-in-law's hand. ::He will be happy when we give him the news.:: Her voice held a conviction that they would escape that Meifen wished she held.

Meifen felt a twinge of envy, then guilt. There was nothing to be envied here. Both her brothers' wives were pregnant at a terrible time to be so. ::All the more reason for us to find a way out.:: If she had to think of one herself, Meifen resolved that she would find it. Perhaps she could persuade their guards to provide her with information.  
>How to do that, though, was the question, and one she did not have a satisfactory answer to. The first ones that came to mind… were distasteful.<p>

* * *

><p>His hangover was gone, but the stench that filled his nose as he alchemically disinfected bed pan after bed pan, and the latrines that littered the camps for lack of enough bathrooms, was worse, in Ted's opinion.<p>

Yet he could not help but feel that the punishment was perfectly justified. Uncle Franz – _General Heimler_ – had been kind enough to dress him down in private, making it very clear that, however good his hunch had been, his actions could just as easily have ruined as much as it had saved. His actions could have gotten not only himself killed, but Roy as well. Roy, who had helped him with his insane idea to make sure he came back safe and didn't screw everything up.

Roy, who was back in the city already, working alongside the other alchemists as they worked to shore up and rebuild; to help the citizens recover what they could.

While Ted was stuck here, cleaning up filth.

Well, it was his fault, wasn't it? He'd already messed up, no matter what people said. He still felt it was at least partially his fault that Larry was dead – that Clarina's arm was gone and Vera hated him now.

His fault he had been stupid-drunk enough to think that just walking into the Imperial city and right up into the palace itself was not only a viable idea, but a good one. They could have been captured and tortured for information. They could have gotten in the way of other missions they might have known nothing about.

_They should just ship me home now._ Ted wasn't entirely convinced that the brass might not do just that. He couldn't see them trusting him with anything desperately important, state alchemist or not.

He wasn't sure he trusted himself. Look at what he'd done? He couldn't close his eyes without seeing blood, rivulets in the muck, and Clarina's agonized face, the torn and bleeding stump that had been her arm. Larry's body. Vera's hateful expression. He had passed out the afternoon before and slept until the next morning, but it had been anything but restful.

::Hey, keep working,:: a medic barked at him.

Ted sighed and moved to the next row of bed pans. Some warrior he'd turned out to be.

* * *

><p>Edward leaned over the maps and notes spread across the little table in the apartment they had temporarily taken up residence in while pretending to be employees at the explosives plant. Will, Alphonse, and Winry were looking at it with similar intensity, though Winry more than the rest of them had laid out a good portion of this plan. Mostly, to Ed's amusement, because the plan wasn't too dissimilar to what she and Aldon had helped pull off when they blew Briggs right out from under the Drachmans' feet years ago.<p>

Only these factories were much bigger, and there were several of them. It had become evident early on that it would be most effective to not only blow the buildings, but destroy as much of their raw materials as they could manage.

First, they would transmute as much of the raw materials as possible into component parts and useless substances. Done on a broad scale, the plant owners, and the Hashman Syndicate, would have no way to fix it. Not without alchemists, which they detested, or alkahestrists, since any nearby were likely to be medical professionals only. None of them would be able to undo what Edward and Alphonse would do.

Winry and Will would handle rigging the explosives. As long as they went off at night, there were likely to be few civilian casualties. The guys just doing their jobs and trying to make a living didn't deserve to be destroyed just because their bosses were okay with mass murders and destruction.  
>Properly set up, a chain reaction would blow the buildings in succession, preferably after they had time to get out of the way.<p>

"And just how do you plan to set this off?" Ed asked finally. He was impressed with the depth of the plan they had come up with, but there were still a few things that concerned him.

"Remotely…alkahestry style," Will grinned. "Each explosion will be part of a series of transmutation circles."

"You're taking all the fun out of this," Ed snorted.

"Do you really want to try outrunning a series of explosions in this weather?" Winry asked rationally, though her eyes glinted in a way that suggested if Ed wanted to live, he'd better agree with her view.

Ed shrugged. "Maybe next time."

"How long is it going to take to set up?" Al asked.

"A few nights," Winry admitted. "We have to make sure that the circles and flash points are hidden well enough they aren't found. That, and getting into every building without getting caught."

"It will take us that long to transmute all the supplies they won't notice to useless heaps anyway," Ed assured her. "You've figured out how to get past the cameras?" Being spotted would not help their chances of success.

Winry grinned. "No worries there. I can bypass those. The trick will be keeping the guards from noticing."

"You're not going to seduce them?" Ed reached out, playing his fingers through the end of her hair.

Winry laughed. "Ed, if I tried that, they'd probably be horrified. The guards we've seen haven't been over fifty."

"Nonsense. Everyone knows guys like mature women."

"Mature…not old enough to be their grandmother."

"You don't look a day older than 'mom,'" Ed leaned in and kissed her.

"Their flirting just keeps getting weirder," he heard Will comment to Al.

Al chuckled. "At least it doesn't involve concussions anymore."

"What?"

"I'll tell you some other time."


	19. Chapter 19

**Feb 25****th****, 1984**

Their trek through had been deceptively quiet which, in Minxia's estimation, only made the tension worse. It was too easy to just walk for two days without running into the enemy, even if that was how the plan was supposed to go.

Light snow had fallen for the past day, leaving a dusting on the ground, though thankfully not enough for them to leave tracks. It was, however, cold.

"What I wouldn't give for a hot cup of tea and a blanket in front of my parents' fireplace," Minxia commented.

Thrakos slipped his arm around her waist. "I think I'd prefer a sunny private beach, a glorious sunset, and you in that amazing red swimsuit you were wearing the last time we went yachting with my uncle."

"Any reason it has to be a private beach?" Minxia teased him softly.

"So I don't have to share the sight of my favorite goddess with anyone else, of course." Thrakos grinned. "I already know the perfect beach. It's about a day's sail south of Uncle Ziro's beach house, and there's a resort nearby that rents out little cottages not too far off the beach, but each one has it's own private little cove."

"Sounds like a popular honeymoon spot." Minxia had the feeling that was exactly why he was bringing it up.

"Would you like that?" he asked earnestly. "We've more than earned a few days off by ourselves."

"It sounds romantic and fun," Minxia assured him. "There's plenty to do in that area. Assuming, of course, you ever want to leave the cottage."

"There is that." He gave her hips a squeeze -

-and his hand gripped in a tight convulsion as he grunted and staggered sideways.

"Thrakos!" Minxia stared in shock at the throwing star sticking out of his shoulder. The only thing that had kept it from hitting her in the back.

The reaction of the soldiers around them was instant, as they all dropped low in the brush around them, weapons out, backs in the middle of a circle around Minxia as she tried to bring Thrakos to the ground without him landing on the wounded shoulder. Blood was already seeping up to the outer layer of his coat as a firefight broke out around them with not just bullets, but arrows and throwing stars. _Something to be said for traditionalists, _she thought as she tried to examine his shoulder.

"Get down before you get hurt!" Thrakos growled at her, his hand clasped over the wound, around the weapon.

"This is as down as I get," Minxia growled at him as she wished desperately that she had more medical training, like her brother. She yanked a handkerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it down tight around his arm. "Hold this here," she barked, then she turned her attention to the earth beneath their feet, and grabbed a stick. It wasn't hard to etch out a quick transmutation circle in the frosty ground.

It was chaos above their heads. In the trees, it was hard to fire long range weapons, and after the first couple of volleys, the attacking warriors had leapt in with swords, spears, and knives. _This I can handle. _Minxia slapped her hands to her newly drawn circle and brought spikes of earth up underneath as many of the soldiers as she could manage at a time, which seemed to be about three. The spikes picked some of them up, threw others a distance, and in a couple of cases pierced armor and sent men to the ground crying from wounds to the groin.

The Yao soldiers took her unexpected alchemy in stride, stepping out of the way and doing their best to take out their opponents without getting in her way. The clang of combat continued, as Minxia did her best to take out as many of the enemy as possible.

Until a soldier slid across her transmutation circle, destroying it with one deep-gauging boot, and swung his sword down at her head—

-only to be met with a fist in the face.

Panting, face furious, Thrakos looked down at her. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Fine." Minxia came quickly to her feet. "What the hell are you doing up?"

"Saving you," he replied as he turned, putting his back to hers. This wasn't over.

"If you bleed out and die I'll never forgive you." Minxia snarled, anger mixing in with her worries.

"I'm – not planning to." Thrakos looked around, and Minxia could feel his back against hers, strong and warm.

But the fight seemed to be winding down now. Over half a dozen Yao lay in the snow, but nearly twice that many were scattered about, dead or groaning.  
>Minxia strode over to one she had caught and tossed with one of her earth spikes. Crouching down, she grabbed him by the throat of his uniform. His collar marked him likely one of the ranking officers. ::Who told you we were here?:: she demanded. She didn't care if it was her place or not to do so.<p>

To his credit, the soldier did not look panicked, nor start babbling. ::We follow our orders,:: he replied simply.

::And I asked how you found out we were here,:: Minxia repeated more firmly. ::Why aren't you down at the border?::

::Maybe this one will be more cooperative,:: Colonel Usan, the Yao officer in charge of the unit that had been sent with them, suggested as he dragged a much younger man forward. This one was bleeding from the inside of his leg, where the tip of one of Minxia's spikes had caught him. He gestured to his men, and they dragged the soldier whose uniform Minxia had been grasping away out of hearing range. She let go reluctantly.

::What are you doing here?:: she asked the young man as she bent down and started drawing another circle in the dirt.

This one was younger than her, and he definitely looked scared. A first assignment she guessed.

He shuddered, watching her hands with open fear. ::We… this is our regular patrol,:: he babbled. ::We've been out here for two weeks, walking up and down the border. Just like the patrol we replaced before us. We've had patrols here ever since the invasion. Our Illustrious General feared attack from our neighbors.::

_Of course he did. That's because he's a jerk, just not a stupid one. _ Minxia nodded. ::So why aren't you on the border right now?::

::We were heading home to trade out with the next unit,:: he continued. ::If they don't meet up with us in two days they'll…they'll know something's wrong.::

Just great. Minxia sighed, placed one hand on the circle, and another on the man's leg. He flinched. ::Don't be a baby,:: she grumbled and a moment later she began the healing transmutation. It was one of her weaker skills, but she could keep the wound from infecting, and stop the bleeding. ::Unless you don't plan on ever being a father.::

That shut him up.

In a minute it was done. No longer chilly, Minxia wiped a few drops of sweat from her forehead and gestured for them to take the man away. "Your turn," she motioned to Thrakos, who sat down in front of her with a meek expression she knew he had to be faking. Thrakos was never meek.

"Yes, dear."

::This is going to be more difficult.:: She gestured for one of the soldiers to join them. ::When I tell you, yank out the star,:: she said. ::I'll close the wound.::  
>Thrakos sat steady, watching as the soldier took a good gloved grip on the star, making sure not to touch any of the edges or points.<p>

The soldier nodded.

::On three.:: Minxia prepared herself. ::One. Two. Three.::

Thrakos' hiss of pain was all she heard as Minxia pumped alchemical power through herself and into Thrakos as much as she dared, driving the healing energy into the wound, staunching blood flow and healing over the worst of it. While it felt like the energy was rushing through her, the process was a slow one, taking several minutes.

When she stopped, Minxia sagged forward, sweating now.

"Easy there." Thrakos reached out, propping her up with his good arm, though he looked almost as tired. While his sleeve was still dark with drying blood, beneath it Minxia could see what looked like new flesh after several days' healing.

Around them, the living had been bound as prisoners. Only four were actually dead. It seemed like at least half a dozen had escaped though.

::Good work,:: Colonel Usan came up beside her, offering them both hands up off the ground. ::Though we will need to move quickly if we're going to be out of the area before they return with reinforcements. Our surprise is gone.::

::We can keep up,:: Minxia replied firmly, though looking at Thrakos she wasn't entirely sure. He looked a bit pale after losing blood. ::What's the plan?::

::We will leave our current heading, and cut north for a bit. It's slightly out of our way, but hopefully that will work to our advantage.::

That would add more time on to their trip, but if they avoided any more patrols, it would be worth it. ::I'll cover our tracks,:: she offered. It was necessary now, and with a little alchemy, she could make it very difficult for anyone to follow them.

"Minx—"

::I can handle it,:: she said more firmly, purposefully not looking at Thrakos.

::Good.:: Colonel Usan didn't question her abilities. ::We'll be heading out at once.::

"Are you sure about this?" Thrakos asked as they started moving. The Yao soldiers had already moved their captives well out of hearing distance, and left them on the ground for their comrades to find.

"I'd rather not have to go through another ambush if we can avoid it, so whatever I have to do I will do," Minxia replied, not in the mood to argue the point. "How are you feeling?"

"A little light-headed, but better than I did with a bleeding gauge in my arm." He spoke softly, even in Amestrian, clearly embarrassed at having been hit first. "Thanks."

"Anything to get my hands on you," she said gently, smiling just briefly, despite the serious peril of their situation. "Now let's get out of here before anyone else tries to skewer you. It will ruin my wedding plans if you're not there."

**Feb 26****th****, 1984**

"So is it always this riveting on the war front?" Michio asked as he helped Ted fold the infirmary laundry, which consisted mostly of clean white towels and sheets. It wasn't amazing work, but it needed doing and it kept Michio busy. Not being part of the military, he wasn't going to be allowed into the city until civilian aide was allowed in. Right now they had enough going on in the city, suppressing pockets of violence and making things safe. Some forces had refused to admit defeat.

"You should have helped me out yesterday. The latrines are fascinating," Ted grumbled, folding a towel.

Michio shrugged, trying not to let his cousin's down attitude effect the rest of the room. He had listened to Ted's tale of woe the night before over coffee, letting Ted rant about his mistakes, perceived or otherwise. He hadn't been there, after all, but he knew his cousin was having it rough. This was the first time seeing this level of violence for either of them, and Ted had gotten the worst end of it.

They couldn't go into the city, and they couldn't follow the rest of the army. Or at least, that had been Ted's gripe this morning. The Alchemist units under Tore Closson were remaining with the city, but those under Calvin Fischer's command had gone with Tao's brother Shan to push back against the forces north of the city. Their goal being to force the army all the way back to their own borders if possible or at least make the war so expensive for them that they gave up their coup attempt. Thankfully the were, for the moment, running short of explosives and small rockets.

"I think I prefer laundry to latrines." Michio knew he'd see enough of bed pans later in medical school anyway. He had spent part of the morning assisting with changing the wrappings on various wounded soldiers, before joining his cousin in this particular chore. "You know he won't leave you on this kind of duty forever," he said after Ted continued to stew quietly for several minutes.

"I'm still not sure if this is a punishment or a favor." Ted reached for another pile of towels. "If he were any other superior, I'd have expected to be sent home in disgrace at this point."

"You're a talented alchemist."

"But what does it say that the only thing I've done right this entire time required me to be hammered to figure out a functional plan?"

"That's not talent, that's dumb luck." Michio sighed. It was the rant from last night all over again. "Look, I'm no military tactical expert, but even I wouldn't send home someone whose useful in a fight, but I wouldn't put you out on the field immediately after something like what happened to you the other day either. Not if I didn't have to." Basic psychology told him enough to know that Ted was dealing with a lot at the moment, probably even more than he realized.

"The others haven't taken time off to clean latrines."

"Is Vera back on the front?" Michio asked pointedly.

Ted stopped. "I… I don't know."

"Well I do know," Michio continued. "I saw her this morning. She was helping make breakfast for the wounded."

"Oh." Ted started folding again.

"Yeah. We had a nice little chat."

"Who are you, the new camp psychologist?"

So much for being subtle. "I just thought she could use someone to talk to," Michio shrugged. "I didn't tell her we were related."

"Probably smart, or she wouldn't have talked to you." Ted shrugged. "What did she say?"

"A lot of things I'm not going to repeat," Michio answered. It would have been unfair, and a breach of trust, even if he wished he could have repeated some of it. Vera hadn't mentioned Ted's name specifically, but her rants had turned more towards her own guilt than blaming him for what happened. "I can tell you I don't think she hates you as much as you think she does."

"That's a big help. So she only sort of hates me."

"No, I just think you hate yourself more right now than she hates you."

"If this is supposed to be a pep talk, you suck at it."

This was not going the way Michio had hoped. With a silent sigh in his own head, he gave up. "All I meant was maybe you're being a bit hard on yourself."

"Maybe," Ted conceded. "But that's how I've got to be if I don't want to screw up again. I don't want to get any more of my friends killed."

"Fair enough." There wasn't much Michio could do to argue that, other than he didn't entirely agree that Ted had to be that way. He hadn't been there. He hadn't watched a friend die, or a girl he liked lose an arm. If he had, maybe he'd feel the same.

**Feb 28****th****, 1984**

"See you next week," Ethan told his patient with a smile as she stepped out the door, toddler on her hip. It had been a fairly relaxed routine day of work, which was a rare and precious gift. Only five appointments all day, no walk-ins, and most routine check-ups like that last one. Molly Lane was typically one of Ren's patients, a pleasant woman expecting her second child.

Ethan picked up her chart and put it back in the filing cabinet before stepping into the back to pick up his office. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to keep the place as neat as it was when Ren was there.

He picked up a glass of water and took a drink as he surveyed the room. He didn't actually have any other scheduled appointments for the rest of the afternoon, so he might as well see about putting things to rights.

What sounded like a car backfiring, made him jump as Ethan set down his glass on the desk. He frowned, as everything else on the desk jumped too. Earthquake? They were rare events in Central.

The second sound was definitely an explosion, and it send the building rocking. The glass slid off the desk and shattered as Ethan grabbed the edge to stay upright. _What the hell!_

Outside, he heard the warning sirens starting at Military Headquarters just a couple of blocks away.

Their secretary, Yena, poked her head in the door, eyes wide. "Doctor Elric, what's going on?"

"I don't know," Ethan straightened up and headed towards her. "But I'm going to find out!" He grabbed his medical bag on a whim. If they needed him in an emergency, he was most likely to be using alchemy.

Explosions in Central. Explosions near –or in- Central HQ. He didn't want to tell her what he thought it most likely was. They'd been warned the Hashman Syndicate was planning something.

They'd been warned. Everyone had been put under special security, even his family.

Outside, it was easy to follow the smoke, the stream of people running away from or towards the building, and the sound of police sirens in the distance even though the military warning was already blaring across the city.

Ethan started running.

The first thing he realized was the Assembly Building was in flames. The military fire department, in the couple of minutes it had taken him to get there, was already pulling out hoses. People were streaming out of the building. There was a huge, gaping hole in the side of the building that had ripped apart all three stories.

Ethan could only imagine how anyone could have gotten an explosion that big off in HQ. _Rockets. _Projectile weapons from a distance… his blood ran cold.

The cause of the second explosion caught his throat. The second shot had hit the west wing of the main HQ building itself, and the response there was just as dramatic. Military personnel streaming out of every opening, save for the ones running towards the damage. The cacophony of screams, sirens, cries of agony, and roaring fire pounded in Ethan's ears.

In the middle of it all, military precision took over. Soldiers and what few State Alchemists were in the city were forming up to face any further attack. Ethan had the feeling anyone who was on the premises who was involved stood little chance of getting away.

Except that he was almost certain they weren't here.

_Dad warned us. Why couldn't they stop this? _

Ethan hurried toward the line of wounded being gathered outside of HQ. There, at least, he could do something to help.

* * *

><p>Charisa coughed, mentally cursing the amount of dust in the air as she pulled herself out of the debris that had been a wall in her office until a minute ago. She didn't try and ask what was going on. In her heart, a feeling of dread told her it was an attack on the government. Which meant she could guess who was behind it. What mattered right now was survival. "Is everyone all right?" she shouted across the Assemblyman's office.<p>

Groans met her comment, and several shouts of various levels of okay. People were pulling themselves out of rubble, or crawling out from under their desks.

"We've got to get out of here," Orrin Styes, one of the other office staff said as he offered Charisa a hand to her feet. His hand went to her face, and Charisa took a step back before his fingers came away, and she realized she was bleeding. Her own hand came up, finding a narrow gash. It stung when she touched it.

"Let's go," she agreed, fighting down rising panic. Now was the time for decisive action. _Fall apart later, girl. _"Anyone who's not hurt, help the rest!" This wasn't over. She could hear shouting in the hallways, sirens outside, and the crackling of what sounded like flames. Their office wasn't on fire yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Charisa turned, and offered Penny Fairchild, the woman who sat in the next desk, a hand up. Penny grimaced as she stood and tried to put weight on her ankle. "Here, lean on me," Charisa offered.

"Thanks." Penny didn't argue, but leaned against her a little.

The halls were packed with people, streaming towards the doors at various speeds of movement. There wasn't room to run, and it was warm from packed bodies, and warmer still from the fires Charisa could sense behind them. _It's only thirty yards to the door. That's all. Just a minute's walk. _

But it felt like an eternity. Behind them, she heard what sounded like something collapsing. How much of the building was gone? Charisa's heart pounded harder, until she felt it might pound right through her chest. Penny stumbled, nearly taking them both down, more than once. She was stouter than Charisa, a fact she hadn't really paid attention to until she had to help the other woman down a hallway that seemed far longer than it had ever been before.

Her lungs began to ache, and she realized that smoke was beginning to creep along the ceiling above their heads.

"Just, a little further," she grunted, as they continued to push forward with the mob, breaking so suddenly into the open air that Charisa almost fell over when there wasn't a press of people in front of her. Gasping, she and Penny hurried away from the building. There were ambulances parked a few yards away, and medics seeing the first people who came to them. She headed that way.

"Thanks," Penny said as she straightened up. "I couldn't have gotten out of there without you."

"That's what friends are for." Charisa couldn't manage a smile. Her eyes were drawn back towards the building they had just vacated and it's huge, gaping, flaming hole. Dread crept through her, and her legs began to wobble.

A moment later she was sitting on the ground, still staring, only vaguely aware of a medic dabbing her cheek with antiseptic. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she let herself give in to the terror of the scene before her.

* * *

><p>This would teach her to come to work ill, Alyse thought as she leaned against the bit of wall behind her, trying to ignore the throbbing pain from her ankle, which was already purple and swelling rapidly. She had stayed home resting until today, but had come in to work for an important planning meeting anyway. Now, she might never leave.<p>

_Don't think that way_, she chided herself as she looked up at the metal beam that was all that had saved her and two of her colleagues from dying in the collapse of the floor above.

She could hear people on the other side of the collapse. The hiss of water on fire. There were firefighters there, possibly only yards away. The fire was crackling, biting, fighting back like a living thing. Above her, metal bars creaked.

They were so close. Alyse didn't bother trying to get to her feet. It was too hot up there. The air they could breathe was down along the floor anyway. "We're in here!" she shouted as loudly as she could. "Someone help us!"

"They won't hear you," Tracey Mullins cried, eyes wide in panic. "We're going to die in here!"

"No, we won't," Alyse snapped back, feeling irritated more than terrified. Or perhaps it was more to keep from feeling the terror creeping up through her. "They won't stop if they know we're still alive in here." She turned her attention back to the wall of debris, pierced only here and there with the tiniest crevices of light that told her that out there, somewhere, was real daylight. The rest of the building in front of them was destroyed. There was no way out. All she could do was shout, and hope. "We're alive!" she shouted again. "Help! We're trapped!"

Tracey, and Ursula Gynn, the other woman with whom she had been meeting, started to shout as well.

It was all they could do, and pray that they got through in time.

_I told Cal to be careful. I hope he never lets me live this down._ If she got out of this alive, she'd be quite happy to let him scold her for the rest of her life.

If.


	20. Chapter 20

**Feb 28****th****, 1984 (continued) **

He was on autopilot. Ethan had dealt with war, had to triage patients, prioritize, and pray that someone had time to get to them all and that they survived. Despite the years it had been since Drachma, or Aerugo, he fell back into that mindset with surprising ease, going from patient to patient, starting with the ones in critical condition, the ones near death who might not otherwise survive, and giving them what he could. Stabilize one, then move on to the next. They didn't need his first aid experience, they needed the alchemist.

The swarms slowed, and the buildings were evacuated. He was only vaguely aware that the fires were coming under control, or when the buildings stopped shifting and collapsing. The fires went out.

All he did know was that finally the stream of patients thinned. Those with minor injuries were treated or sent to Central Hospital. The critical cases, once stabilized, rushed to the ER. The line thinned.

And that was when they started getting the bodies.

Most of them were too charred to be identified except by their dog tags, some of which were already melted and unreadable. Others were only partially burned. The casualty count would only climb from here. A dozen dead so far, over three hundred wounded.

The stench made his stomach turn.

"You can go, Doctor Elric," one of the medics said. "I don't think we're going to find many living at this point."

Ethan shook his head. "No. Not until they're all out." Anyone still alive now would need him more than anyone else. He turned and moved through the crowds, towards HQ. He had spent most of his time on the Assembly side of the triage center set up in the middle of the grounds. There were new patients, men running up with stretchers, shouting.

"We've got live ones!" the soldier shouted as the stretchers were set down, oxygen masks already over their faces.

His heart leapt into his throat. Ethan thought he recognized that hair. _No… oh no. _ He pushed through the crowd and dropped to his knees next to the medic, who gave him a dirty look until he took in Ethan's lab coat –which he had never removed- and recognized him.

"Doctor Elric-"

Ethan waved him off, yanking on his medical gloves –the ones on which he had painstakingly dyed healing transmutation circles- and pressing them to his cousin's arm. He dumped alchemical energy into her, searching for damage, praying there was no permanent damage, but his heart fell. Smoke damage mostly, inhalation, and a severely broken ankle. Her breath was there, her heart still beat, but faintly.

She had to come to him at the end of the day. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ethan poured every ounce of alchemical energy he could muster into healing.

_ Come on, Alyse. You can't die on me today._

* * *

><p>Gloria Fischer wasn't normally the type of girl to freak out. Her friends had commented many times about how jealous they were that she could always seem to keep it together, no matter what happened.<p>

They wouldn't have known how to respond to the girl pacing the floor of the living room, trying not to panic at the horrific views on the television. Headquarters in flames. Her mother's office destroyed. She knew exactly where in the building it was. The room was gone.

And no word, not a word from her, who should have been home by now. Not even a call from a hospital to let them know she was all right.

The Assembly had been hit too, but Gloria's mind kept returning to the more critical personal matter; her mother was missing. Her mother might be dead.  
>Kamika sat on the end of the couch, dinner forgotten half-made, her eyes riveted to the TV as well.<p>

Charlie, still sick, looked green with a pallor that had nothing to do with his stomach bug. "We've got to get over there, Sis!"

"You're not going anywhere," Gloria told him firmly for the fifth time. "You're still not supposed to be out of the house, remember? Doctor's orders."

Charlie gestured towards the television. "What about Mom?"

"I know, okay?" Gloria bit back tears. How she wished her father was here. Of course, if he was, he probably would have been at Headquarters when the explosions went off.

The news was no help. Reports said that a couple of people had seen the rockets right before they hit headquarters. Military police had traced the trajectory back to a warehouse on the edge of town. Some suspects were in custody.

The body count made her squirm. The numbers seem to rise every few minutes. They were up to twenty-five dead, and four hundred wounded, right in the middle of Amestris' capitol.

"Maybe we can call someone," Kamika suggested.

"Who?" Charlie asked.

Who indeed. Almost anyone in their family with military connections was in Xing. There was Trisha, but Gloria didn't think she would know anything. Uncle Ethan? Knowing him he was either at the hospital or there on the grounds of Headquarters, which made him unreachable.

Gloria hated feeling helpless. It was almost worse than when Charlie had been kidnapped. She had been helpless then. Since then she had learned several self-defense techniques from her father, much as Charlie had decided to pick up alchemy after that day. Both were useless here.

"I'll try calling the hospital," Kamika suggested. "Mom's friend Neyona works in the ER. Maybe she'll know something." She stood up and moved to the phone.

"Thanks." It was something. But Gloria's eyes were drawn to the screen, and the news coverage which couldn't get far onto the grounds of Headquarters. Regulations kept them from pouring in and taking over.

_Where are you, Mom? You've got to be okay. Please… _

* * *

><p>Dare Closson had given up on trying to do his homework, even with his girlfriend Lorraine over. As soon as he had turned on the news, he had known that it was bad. He'd felt the explosion. Possibly most of Central had.<p>

Lorraine, thankfully, had taken Camelia and Brandon upstairs to help them with their homework, keeping them from hearing most of what was going on.

Dare had to resist the urge to run out the door. His mother's office was gone, but there was nothing he could do if he went there. Probably they wouldn't even let him on the grounds. Surely the place would be locked down against letting anyone in who might add to the chaos…or be one of the terrorists who had attacked the government.

So he made dinner, watching the TV and anxiously waiting for the phone to ring. Their personal house-guard was outside. He wasn't worried about their safety, just his mother's. He had promised his father he'd take care of the family – and now he was stuck.

He almost chopped his own hand instead of the carrots when the phone rang. Dropping everything, he scrambled across the kitchen. "Hello, Mom?" he blurted out.

"Hey." The tone of his mother's voice melted the worst of the knot of fear in his stomach with a simple word. "Yeah, it's me."

"Where are you? Are you all right?"

"A little scraped up, but okay. I'm at the hospital," his mother said. "They said I can go home anytime."

Finally, something he could do. "Stay there, Mom. I'll go get the car and pick you up."

"I'll be here," she assured him. She sounded tired.

"See you soon." Dare hung up and headed upstairs to his room to grab his wallet.

"Dare, everything okay?" Lorraine came in, a concerned expression on her face.

"Some things anyway," he said as he stuffed his wallet and keys in his pocket. Dare turned to Lorraine and pulled her close. "I need you to watch Brandon and Cammie. Mom's okay, but I need to go pick her up."

"Of course." Lorraine hugged him back. "I'm glad she's alright. I'll keep an eye on things until you get back."

Dare kissed her. "Thanks, babe. Love you."

Lorraine smiled. "Love you too. Now get going."

Dare didn't need to be told twice, he hurried downstairs and out the door, stopping only long enough to address the security officer on the doorstep.

Officer Williams didn't look pleased. "You shouldn't go alone."

"Yeah, well you need to stay here and watch my little brother and sister," Dare countered. "My girlfriend too. They don't have any training. I do." There wasn't time to argue this. "You can call in backup if you want, but I don't think you've got any available."

Williams glowered. "Be careful."

Dare nodded and hurried off at a jog. It was several blocks to HQ parking. He didn't want to leave his mother waiting any longer than necessary.

* * *

><p>Agony turned white. Floating in darkness that slowly faded, wrapped in a glow of warm energy. It was peaceful and painless. For a moment, all was right.<p>

Then pain and heaviness returned, along with agonizing coughs that sent discomfort screaming through her body.

Her eyes opened, and Alyse looked up at a blurry sky, blocked by a face… a sweaty, exhausted face that slowly resolved itself into a teary-faced Ethan. "Thank goodness," he gasped. "We almost lost you."

It took her a moment to find the air for words. "Lost… me?"

"Don't speak." He caressed her hair with one hand. "I've just finished healing your lungs. You're damned lucky, Alyse. Another minute before they got to you, and you'd have been dead."

"There was – barely – any smoke," she gasped out.

"Shhh." Ethan hushed her. "It doesn't take long. You're lucky it didn't burn through to where you were. The smoke kept escaping because the floor above you was gone."

And still he said she had breathed in enough that she had almost died. Alyse closed her eyes. She felt woozy. "What – about - the girls?" Even that much sent her to coughing.

There was a long moment of silence. "I'm sorry. One of them didn't make it. I don't know which."  
>"Oh."<p>

"We're going to be moving you to the hospital," Ethan continued. "Now that you're stabilized."

Alyse opened her eyes again, noting her cousin's worried expression. "Am I—"

"You need to rest," he cut her off. "There was a lot of damage. I healed it, but you know what that takes out of you."

She nodded. If this was how she felt after being healed she didn't want to know how close to death she had come. She didn't want to remember the terror she had felt before losing consciousness. The memories were blurry, but she feared their return later. "Okay." She closed her eyes once more. It was hard to keep them open.  
>Ethan gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder as he sat up, and she was aware of medics moving in, and an oxygen mask settling in place over her mouth.<p>

* * *

><p>There were worse days to have dentist appointments. Trisha Heimler had been out of work all afternoon, since she had scheduled Rosa and Gabriel's dentist appointments for the same day. Coming home to the news had ruined what had otherwise been a pretty good afternoon. Both of the kids had handled the dentist without complaint, gotten good reports on their dental hygiene, and gotten straight to their homework on getting home. Not that Gabriel had much at his age.<p>

Then part of her world had exploded.

She had dropped the kids off with Roy's parents before reporting in for an emergency meeting. "So, what do we know?" she asked as she dropped into her seat at the conference table in the room on the far side of HQ from where they would normally have met. Most of the alchemist offices were damaged.

Kane nodded. "There's no doubt the Hashman Syndicate is behind this. Coupled with Fullmetal's intelligence report, and what we found at the canning plant makes that clear." He pointed to the map of Central on the wall, tapping the plant in question as he spoke. "We've got five suspects in custody, three of whom have already proudly declared their allegiance to Hashman."

Fury bubbled up in Trisha's insides, mixed with dread and the urge to smash someone's face in. "Do they have more rockets?"

"We don't know," one of the military police officers said grimly from across the table. "It seems likely that this is the first attack of what they planned to be more than one. If it's their only major card to play, than they must be expecting panic. If they're going to move again, I would expect it to be while we're still scrambling."

"They've underestimated us then," Kane said grimly. "Because we're not going to give them time to set up another attack. We're not waiting for them this time. We're going to hunt them down and take them out."

"If they're still in the city," Lyssandra Fines said skeptically. "We know their headquarters is no longer here. They would be fools to stick around for long."

"Which is why we've got to find them and any more rockets they may have before they have time to set up a second attack." Kane frowned. "Rehnquist has asked me to attach alchemists to all military squads on this mission. I know it's a calculated risk, but we're still the only real defense against this kinds of weaponry. You've all been briefed on the tactics they're using against this things in Xing right now. If you have to, use them."

Trisha nodded with the rest of them. It was going to be a long night. She hoped that they found the Syndicate members that were still out there, though part of her hoped that they wound find that those were their only major weapons.

Somehow, she didn't think that would be the case.

* * *

><p>Ethan didn't make it to the dinner table. He arrived home late, and collapsed into his favorite over-stuffed recliner with a groan of exhaustion. He'd given everything he had to patients that afternoon; on the grounds, and later at the hospital.<p>

"Ethan?"

He forced his eyes open to find Lia standing beside him, a worried look on her pretty face, and a steaming mug in her hand. "Hey." He took the mug, sniffed it, and took a long slow sip of ginseng tea, heavily laden with milk and honey.

"How bad is it?" Lia sat down in the chair beside his. Ethan heard the sounds of dinnerware stop in the kitchen and knew the kids were listening.

"Bad," he replied. "Could have been worse. From what we heard at the hospital, they're reporting accurate casualty counts. Lots of burns and smoke inhalation injuries, but mostly twisted ankles and broken bones. We sent a lot of people home to their families tonight."

"How's Alyse?" Lily asked as she appeared beside the chair with a big bowl that smelled like stew. They didn't know much, only what he'd told them when he called to say he'd be late.

Ethan traded out the cup for the bowl, and took several bites before he let himself answer that particular question. He had no reserves left. "She's alive," he said finally, "And stable, though she's still in critical condition. I've given her two treatments for her lungs." The broken ankle would heal in time and wasn't life threatening. "She'll be okay, it'll just take time."

Some of the tension went out of the room, as he realized all three teens had been listening intently, but trying not to get in the way. "I saw Charisa. Dare came and picked her up and took her home. She was a little scraped up, but nothing major. Everyone else we know seems to be okay." At least, anyone of close family. Ethan was grateful for the armed security outside their house tonight.

"That's good." Aeddan smiled with clear relief, though he still looked nervous. Ethan understood that.

"School's cancelled tomorrow," Lia told him. "The district didn't want to put the children in danger in case they decided to aim for a non-military target."

"That's good." Ethan kept eating. "They've already got special units out patrolling the streets and hunting down any of the Syndicate members who got away." He polished off the bowl and handed it back to Lily, who headed back to the kitchen when he nodded he'd like more. "I'll need to go back to the hospital in the morning, and I've still got patients to see, though we'll see how many of them show up after the excitement this afternoon."

"I'm not sure if it's good or bad that a lot of places will probably be closed tomorrow," Lia sighed.

"It's harder to hit targets that aren't all in one place," Eamon said contemplatively. "It just sucks that everyone's lives are affected; especially the families who lost people."

Ethan had seen too many of those faces already this afternoon. He nodded and thanked Lily as she brought him another bowl heaped with stew. "We'll be okay," he assured them. "We're well guarded, and we're not exactly helpless. So, I'm not going to let anyone use this as an excuse to sit around and panic. Do you have anything you need to do tonight?"

Eamon's mouth was halfway open in a 'no' when Lily chimed in. "We have a history paper due, well ,whenever we get back. Mine's mostly finished, but I should probably finish it. Is yours done?" she gave her twin a serious look.

"Not quite," Eamon responded, looking disgruntled. "All right. Let's go."

"I need to take a shower," Aeddan sighed. "And do math," he added when Lia gave him a knowing look.

"Then those sound like good things to get done before bed," Ethan replied. It was best to keep busy in uncertain times.

Sensing the subtle dismissal, his kids went upstairs. When they were gone he tucked into his food, devouring the second bowl in short order. He spent most of that time trying not to meet Lia's knowing gaze; the one that said she knew he was keeping something.

"If you're going to give me that look, can I at least have more stew to go with it?" Ethan asked, holding up the bowl. His stomach growled, demanding accommodation. He thought he might be able to eat an entire pot himself, though he doubted there was that much left.

Lia took the bowl, and brought it back, this time with three pieces of hot buttered toast. "You look terrible," she said bluntly.

"I had nine patients die under my hands today," Ethan admitted then, taking the food and starting to wolf it down, not at all worried about manners with the children upstairs. "They were too far gone when they got to me…and there was nothing I could do. I tried anyway."

"No wonder you're exhausted. You can't push yourself like this," Lia scolded, though there was a resigned tone in her words.

"I'll recover," Ethan tried not to sound grumpy. He didn't want coddling; just plenty of food and a good night's sleep, preferably without the nightmares he could expect after watching so many lives slip away. The worst part of being connected to them alchemically, was he could almost _feel_ them dying. "I'm more worried about Alyse," he finally admitted.

"I thought you said she would be all right."

"She's got a long road ahead." Ethan gulped down a slice of toast in three bites. "While she's stable, it was a very close call. I almost lost her several times. There's still the risk of secondary infections, and she's very weak. She'll need intensive care for several weeks, and time to rebuild her lung strength. Even with help it will be weeks before she can walk on her ankle either. Add to that she was still sick—" She was alive, and he would do everything in his abilities to keep her that way, but that didn't mean it was a sure thing. Ethan had stopped believing in sure things a long time ago. "When I left, Elicia was at the hospital with her, and Gracia had gone over to the townhouse to stay with the kids."

Lia sighed. "They must be frantic."

Ethan just nodded. Elicia hadn't known anything more than what he knew now. "I'll be dropping by there tomorrow after my hospital rounds," he said. "I need to check on Charlie anyway." He'd heard the boy was at least keeping food down again, but a shock like this wasn't good for anyone's system.

The bowl was empty again. The toast was gone. His body was still crying for nutrition, but his stomach was out of space.

Lia took the empty bowl and kissed him on the cheek. "Go get a shower and come to bed, Ethan. I'll make sure you have a good breakfast tomorrow."

Better than over doing it tonight. Ethan caught her hand and pulled her close for a more intimate kiss. "You know you're amazing, right?"

She smiled. "So I've been told."

It took all of Ethan's remaining reserves to haul himself out of his chair and stay awake long enough to scrub down and pass out on the bed. He was unconscious before Lia got there.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 1223/14 Happy Festive Winter season to all my readers! (Or Summer season if you happen to live on the other hemisphere). Thanks to all the support and great discussions I've had with many of you! I hope you enjoy this week's chapter, as well as the many to come. November was fruitful and my buffer is back to being several months long._

_Also, just to address a note on something in the story, I purposefully left the 'timing' in the rescue scene a little vague because of how tricky it can be time-wise regarding how long someone can actually live in a situation that involves smoke-inhalation, fire, etc. That scene was actually far more complex to think-out than to put down on paper, involving deciding if she passed out and slipped below the smoke, how far away the fire was, for how long, given the materials of the building and where people were in relation to the explosions. Needless to say, it cuts it 'very' close, but this is where my nearly-two-decades of listening to my husband talk about fire safety and emergency situations comes in pretty handy._

_Thanks again! _


	21. Chapter 21

**Mar 1****st****, 1984**

It had been a long, sleepless night. Trisha was grateful she'd left the kids with their grandparents, because there was no way she would have gotten home at a decent hour, not given the investigation in which they were currently engaged, but because they would be far safer there. When she'd left, Riza had also been over, and both sets of personal security had remained on the house given the importance of the people inside it.

After that it had been a long night patrolling the streets of Central, searching warehouses, and trying to track down leads based on vague information like "I saw some men running that way five minutes after the explosions."

The sneaking around, at least, was something Trisha's particular alchemical skills were excellent for. Instead of busting in doors, her team could trust her alchemy for listening in and determining if anyone was in a building and, in most cases, exactly who they were, or what. Busting in on rats or couples kissing in the dark would have been highly embarrassing.

Trisha decided she didn't want to know what couple thought making out in a warehouse the night after a major attack was a good idea. She had the team bust in on them just for the amusement factor. It helped alleviate a little of the tension, and it convinced the two teenagers in question they should really go home before they did something stupid.

_Roy would have enjoyed that,_ she couldn't help thinking as they made their way towards the last warehouse on the end of Devin Street.

"If there's nothing here, do we get to go home?" Second Lieutenant Trev Mullins asked, stifling a yawn.

"If there's nothing here we report back and find out where else we can look," Trisha replied, refusing to yawn herself. Instead she crouched behind the wall of the next building over, sketched out a transmutation circle, and placed her hands to it, reaching out with alchemical energy into the next building, like she had the past several, searching for noises and the presence of anyone there. Even the slightest whispers.

"Anything?"

"Shhh."

There they were… voices, speaking thickly accented Amestrian and Aerugean. She could only catch snatches of conversation, but she recognized words: escape, cars, and regroup. "I think that's them." She pulled her hands away from the wall and stood. "They sound like they're getting ready to move out, we'll need to work quickly. They don't have a guard near the doors."

"Assume they're armed," Officer Kennison, the military police officer in charge of the team, said softly.

"You think?" one of the junior officers quipped.

Trisha smacked him on the arm.

After that, everyone locked into professional mode, slipping into formation and closing in around the building. They would approach through two doors. It split fire if they walked in to a hot situation.

Trisha edged up on the east door, taking deep slow breaths. _Here we go._ On the signal squawk from her radio she spun and kicked in the door.  
>Inside –<p>

There was no one.

The door across from her busted open, revealing Officer Kennison.

Her eyes immediately started scanning the building for an ambush, but the only sounds in the building were the echoes of humming electronics, and the tick-tick of a running fan.

They spread out, searching the building.

"Where did they go?" Kennison asked as she and Trisha met in the middle. Trisha appreciated that the woman did not challenge the fact that Trisha had heard them there.

"Here!" someone said, and Trisha and Kennison followed the voice to a small open door, which turned out to lead to a staircase down. "The door was ajar."

Trisha looked down into the dark space, and her heartbeat picked up. "Do we follow?"

"We do," Kennison nodded as she picked up her radio. "But first, we call for back-up."

* * *

><p>"How's it feeling?" Ethan asked as he stopped gently prodding Charlie's stomach, which seemed far less distended and sensitive than it had a couple of days before. His fever finally seemed to have broken, which was also a good sign.<p>

"Better," Charlie shrugged. "I may never eat catfish again though."

Given that had been his last meal before it kicked in, Ethan couldn't blame him. The smell would probably haunt him for a while. "There are worse things." Ethan gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Charlie's expression drooped. "How's Mom?"

It took all of Ethan's willpower not to wince. Gloria, Kamika, and Elicia were also in hearing distance. "I saw her this morning," he said. "She said she misses you."

"When can we see her?" Gloria asked from the kitchen door.

"In a couple of days," Ethan replied, not wanting to offer too much. "As long as she keeps improving as fast as she is." He didn't just want to say as long as she continued to improve at all. "Probably by the time they stop locking down most of our houses."

"How is it they're letting you run around today anyway?" Elicia asked as Ethan stood up.

Ethan chuckled. "My security guard is a very patient man who deserves a really nice overtime check." Given he had chased Ethan to Central HQ the night before, then followed him to the hospital, and home again, and had insisted on doing all of today's driving, Ethan was grateful the man hadn't shot him himself.

"Well be safe just the same."

"I will, Aunt Elicia." Ethan packed up his kit. Not that he had needed much given Charlie's improvement. "As for you, sir, take it easy a couple more days and you'll be bouncing off the walls again in no time."

"Thanks, I think."

Elicia escorted Ethan to the door. "Is there anything I should know?" she asked Ethan so quietly even he almost couldn't hear her.

"She's stable, but that's all I can say for now," Ethan admitted in just as low a voice. "It's more than I could have hoped for yesterday. Frankly she's lucky what she and Charlie had was a stomach bug and not respiratory, given how much I've had to do to heal the damage to her respiration system. The firemen got there almost immediately after the smoke did, and it's a miracle she got out at all. One of the other women with her didn't."

"Is she going to _live_, Ethan?"

"As long as there aren't any secondary infections, she should eventually make a full recovery." Ethan wished he could make that sound more cheerful, like it should be. "She's weak, and she's still healing. At least the bug's gone," he added with a twist of irony. "Her ankle is set and will heal on its own with time, probably by the time the rest of her is actually up to really moving around." It would be weeks of respiratory therapy and probably more alchemical treatments before he'd like her do anything more than a sedate walk. "I – I sent a telegram off to Cal last night. I thought he should know."

"Thank you." Elicia sighed. "I mean _thank you._ You've saved my daughter."

Ethan gave her a hug. "Hey, Alyse is my prettiest cousin. Will's a nice guy, but he's not nearly as cute."

* * *

><p>Charisa wished she could turn off the television, but as it was their only real news of what was going on outside the house, she didn't. She did, however, turn down the volume. She didn't want Brandon and Camelia more scared than they already were.<p>

Though she had to admit, aside from pampering _her_, Dare was doing a really good job of keeping his little siblings distracted and busy. Of course, he had Lorraine's help.

Given the late hour when she and Dare had gotten home the night before, she had called and let Lorraine's mother know she was safe and that it was all right if she spent the night. Lorraine's mother had agreed that her daughter staying in a secure house was safer than trying to come home on the dark streets.

So Lorraine had slept in the downstairs guest room –and Charisa had only had to put up with one entirely joking pout from her son that his girlfriend couldn't stay in his room- and it had been a quiet night, aside from the fact that only the youngest really slept.

Now it felt strange to be home mid-morning on a weekday, to know that her office currently did not _exist._

The list of casualties had names now. The first thing Charisa had done was read the names, dreading who she might see, and finding herself grateful with each name that it wasn't someone she really knew. No one in her office had died though, like her, several had suffered minor wounds.

Others weren't so lucky. Charisa would miss seeing Fred Feldman in the halls. He had worked two offices down and had occasionally been on committees dealing with the same lobbyists she did.

Phone calls had gotten her more information than the television set and radio this morning. A call to the Mustangs told her Trisha was out with the police teams hunting down Syndicate members. A call to Ethan and Lia's confirmed that Alyse was alive, if critical, and Ethan was making the rounds. While the State Alchemist offices had been heavily damaged, almost no one had been in them, seeing as they had mostly been out on missions or in a meeting in another part of the building.

So now all she could do was wait.

"Do you want more tea, Mom?" Dare asked solicitously as he came in and looked at her mug.

"Sure. Thank you," she smiled and handed her son the cup. "Breakfast was very nice."

"That was Lorraine's doing," Dare grinned. "She makes amazing omelets."

_You win a boy's stomach and you've won his heart._ Charisa nodded. "They _are _amazing." With the schools closed, there was no reason for anyone to go out today, though Lorraine's father would be coming over to pick her up later that afternoon, unless the political situation remained too unstable. The government was heavily discouraging unnecessary travel and most large public places were closed. The government was open, but only for critical personnel. "What are your brother and sister doing?"

"Lorraine's convinced them to have a race to see who can clean their rooms faster. Winner gets to bathe the cat."

"She really is a miracle worker," Charisa chuckled. "You'd better not let her get away."

"Mom!" Dare's face flushed. "I wasn't planning on it."

Charisa watched him go into the kitchen before turning to the sheet of paper and pen she had set down on the couch next to her. What was she going to tell Tore about all this? She wanted to write him first, knowing that any news he got from the military channels would be impersonal, and cold facts. The last thing she wanted him to be was distracted in the middle of a war zone.

* * *

><p>If not for her particular alchemy, they probably would never have ventured down those stairs into the darkness. However, using her gloves, Trisha was able to sense ahead of them as they moved through the dark tunnel underneath Central, making sure they weren't walking into an ambush.<p>

Not that she was useful for any other purpose while she was doing alchemy, but at least she could do it with fine enough precision that there was no real glow or noise to give them away. Fine control was exactly what was needed now.

The rest of the team had enough firepower to make up for her not holding something as mundane as a gun.

Back-up was also on the way, though in this case that meant there was not only another team coming in behind them, but one they had radioed to head to the area where they estimated –based on several factors- the tunnel might come out. They had figured out pretty quickly, given their location, that it likely ran all the way out to –and past- the old city wall. The city had expanded past that over the years, but the area was still far narrower as to where it could come out given the businesses on the other side.

"Their footsteps went up, like stairs, and vanished," Trisha whispered quietly. "There don't appear to be any other passageways, so it's a straight shot and up."

Kennison and others moved to the front, and Trisha heard a couple of safeties click. "Do you think they suspect we're here?"

Trisha thought hard for a moment. "They'd be fools not to expect to be followed, but it doesn't seem like they realize we've located the entrance to this tunnel." If they were wrong, there was no reason the enemy couldn't drop an explosive down the hole. Of course, destroying the tunnel would render it unusable in the future as well. _Maybe I'll collapse it myself when we're out of here._ Right in the middle would do nicely. "I think we're clear."

And on her head be it if she was wrong.

The trip to the stairs seemed longer in the dark, but Trisha counted it as not being more than about twenty meters when they arrived.

Their moment's pause ended when they heard the unmistakable sound of car engines above their heads.

On Kennison's hand signal, they hurried up the stairs, and burst through the door they found at the top into the bright light of morning—

-and dove for defensive positions as three cars peeled out of the garage, a man in the back of one scattering the room with automatic weapons fire.

Trisha ducked behind an empty oil drum, wincing as bullets clanged off the metal, but grateful none of them found her instead. Panting, she slammed her hands into the ground and sent alchemical energy shooting after the cars as the last one made it out the door. A moment later a sharp lance of air pierced the back tire, and it disappeared in a squeal that ended in a hard slam.

Kennison and the others ran forward, and Trisha joined them, even as she heard Kennison yelling into her radio. As soon as they cleared the doors, the crashed vehicle came into view, as did a street corner with signs.

Less than ten seconds later, Trisha heard sirens. She focused on the car ahead of her, clapping her hands together again and sending a whip of air above the car so it cracked above their heads like lightening.

The men scrambling out of the car dropped to the ground as if someone had shot bullets over their heads. Hands went over ears and she heard shouts of pain.

Then the police officers were on them, weapons drawn.

The man with the automatic weapon must have been in another vehicle, because none of the ones they took into custody had anything larger than a pistol on them. The car also didn't hold any major explosives.

"These flunkies aren't the big guys," Kennison said in disgust once they had them all cuffed.

"That's what back up is for, right?" Trisha said, glad none of their team had been hurt, but frustrated that the rest of their quarry were still out there, likely with the big explosives. It would be up to the military police in vehicles to chase them down. She didn't envy them that chase either.

"We've got a wagon on the way," Kennison nodded. "We'll need it to take these boys back." She gestured at the five men they had added to the six already in custody. "They'll definitely be wanted for questioning. For now, let's see what we can hear." She picked up her radio, swapped frequencies, and held it up.

"-_moving down Bradley Avenue at sixty miles an hour. Car Seven moving to intercept at Bradley and Stone." _

Trisha could visualize the layout as the cars radioed in. There were four in pursuit, two behind, and two heading towards them at intersect points. If Car Seven missed them, Car Twelve would be ahead. Two and Five were behind.

"_Advise. Chaser One has branched off at Miller, heading East. Twelve and Two pursue. Five and Seven, stay on Chaser Two."_  
>The chase was on. Trisha listened intently as the pair broke off following the first car, and another police car, Four, joined the pursuit. Chaser Two ran right into the trap.<p>

"_Chaser Two is intercepted, repeat, Chaser Two is intercepted. Shots have been fired. Approach with caution, plan Beta Three." _

She listened to them surround the vehicle, and heard several shots fired before it went quiet. For a long minute, they heard nothing but a report that Chaser One had turned again.

"_Chaser Two is down. We have three men and a woman in custody. Vehicle appears to be carrying three crates of explosive materials." _

Trisha let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding—

-as something exploded in the distance big enough to send a small rumble even under their feet.

"What the hell—" The other officer didn't get to finish the sentence before the radio came to life again.

"_This is Car Four. Chaser One just – exploded. Vehicle is on fire."_

_"Truck Two is on route," _another voice squawked onto the channel, and Trisha knew that a firetruck would be on the scene in minutes.

Sirens much closer at hand made Trisha turn to see the truck the police used for prisoners pull into the street on which they stood, keeping guard over their newly arrested friends.

Trisha wanted to hear the rest of the radio messages, but by the time they loaded everyone into the wagon and took their team back through the tunnel –which she did carefully collapse in the middle where it would take them time to realize they couldn't dig through it— to their own vehicles, the chase was over and they were reporting that the vehicle, and everything in it, was a loss. The three men inside were all dead from the explosion and their bodies unidentifiable.

"Good work," Kennison said to her and the other two in the car as they drove back towards the station. "We've been asked to debrief and report at HQ as soon as we get back. After that, I've been assured we'll have a few hours off duty."

A few hours – oh joy. Trisha nodded. "At least they won't be using that tunnel again." She almost hoped they tried. They would be in for a nasty surprise.  
>Kennison nodded. "Fifteen Syndicate members in custody. That's got to be a record. Maybe we'll get some useful information out of them."<p>

Trisha hoped so, but at the moment all she felt would be useful was a cup of tea and a shower. Then, maybe, she'd have wound down enough from the tension and excitement to sleep. She glanced at the bright sun above them. _It's almost eleven. Definitely time for bed._

**Mar 2****nd****, 1984**

_Of course I get this kind of news when I'm miles from a good stiff drink._

The telegram in Cal's hands might as well have been a cobra the way he held it, if only for the news it contained. Alyse was in the hospital, in critical condition, because the Hashman Syndicate had successfully hit HQ with two missiles – and he was hundreds of miles away.

Even worse, the news was two days old. Anything could have happened in two days. For all he knew, Alyse could be dead, though he fought the urge to even contemplate the possibility. If he did, he'd be useless.

As it was, he felt useless. There was nothing he could from here that would help Alyse or the kids. Charlie and Gloria had to be frantic, and he wasn't there to comfort them, or take care of things.

He felt like he'd let Alyse down.

Yet he was doing everything he could here. The fighting for the past two days had been particularly intense, but they had made excellent inroads, jamming the supply trains for the soldiers both by road and rail, thanks to some pitched battles and wanton destruction. The latter courtesy of Cal and his alchemists. _This_ was something he knew how to do. The location might be different, but it wasn't all that much of a tactical difference between this and when they had pushed the Drachmans back in Western Amestris.

::Something wrong, Fischer?::

Cal opened his mouth, then closed it again as he looked at Shan Xian. Shan's wife and child were missing, captives in who knew what condition. It didn't seem fair to dump his feelings on the other man. Nor was it professional. ::The Syndicate attacked Central,:: he said. ::Using the rockets they got from the .::  
>Shan's expression darkened. ::How bad is it?::<p>

::More damage to buildings than loss of life, thankfully,:: Cal replied. ::But still, it's not good.:: He put the telegram in his pocket. ::But we should get back to business. You wanted to discuss our possibilities for pushing the back across the Taolung River in the next three days.::

His personal anxieties would have to wait. It was already a month –which sounded such a short time, but felt so long—since the mess had started. Cal wondered if they could end it that quickly.

Another day was now a day longer than he liked, and by travel he was at least ten days from home – six if the train didn't stop. Whatever was happening with Alyse, he was incapable of helping.

_I am going to personally make every last idiot on the other side sorry for this. _

The conviction only made him feel slightly better as he and Shan got down to tactics.


	22. Chapter 22

**Mar 3****rd****, 1984**

Minxia was getting really tired of dodging patrols. It had taken them over a day to shake the one that had come looking for the men they had captured and left tied. Thankfully their choice to detour seemed to have been a good one, other than putting them in the path of another patrol, which they had dodged, and yet another, which they had been required to engage. It had not ended as well as the first. They had lost one man on their team, and killed most of the patrol. Two men, at least, had escaped, which sent them off on another route that took them further north yet again, trying to avoid a logical pattern or head too directly towards their destination.

Their best clue was the radio transmission their communications specialist had picked up claiming that critical political prisoners were being held in Teno 's own home estate –more of a compound- in the town of Xaotan. The town was located, unfortunately, relatively central within the Province.

At this rate, they might never get there. Not that Minxia let herself think that if she could catch herself. She did not have a natural defeated attitude, but she'd never been in this kind of combat situation before, and the prolonged danger was starting to get to her.

She was glad Thrakos was there. He was the only familiar and safe thing in a world that was suddenly neither.

And he was warm. A fact she appreciated at night, when they zipped their sleeping rolls together for warmth –though they remained dressed given present company- or just like now, as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder next to the evening campfire, one kept low and with a clever cover that helped dissipate what little smoke the burning wood gave off. Minxia was grateful for knowledgeable soldiers. The men with them knew which woods burned the most cleanly, which was something she had never considered.

::Got anything?:: She asked the communications specialist, a soldier named Panxao Yao, one of Shirong Yao's second cousin's sons.

He was fiddling with the dials on the radio. ::Not much. Local radio station has terrible music. Evening news reports in disgustingly heroic terms… doubt any of its true. They're trying to claim that both of the royal broadcasts were faked.::

::That's ridiculous,:: Minxia huffed. She had been thrilled when they had gotten a brief message the night before about the fact that after Grandma Mei had gotten on the radio, her Uncle Mao had come on immediately after, having been reunited with his forces outside the Imperial City.

::We're in their home territory,:: Panxao reminded her with a shrug. ::The good news is I'm not picking up any local patrol chatter either. I think we're good for now.::

Minxia leaned against Thrakos and translated the more complex parts of the conversation. Thrakos' Xingese was improving quickly given the circumstances, but it still wasn't as fluent as hers.

"At least that means we can probably sleep without fear of being skewered," Thrakos stretched as he yawned, his arm tightening around Minxia's shoulders.

"After our watch shift. We've got first one tonight," she reminded him, though it was regretfully. Though after the past major fights, none of the Yao soldiers had hesitated to include her and Thrakos in on the planning as well as guard duties, once they realized neither of them was a "useless" civilian.

"I know, I know." Thrakos sighed. "How far are we from Xaotan?"

"Two days if we don't get any more delays." Minxia just hoped they could make it that far. Once they were in the city it would be easier. None of them were in actual military uniforms. Plain-clothes, they could slip into the city in smaller groups and reconnoiter the area. Then they could formulate a more detailed rescue plan.

Word from the border was that Yao troops had pushed the until they broke their initial line, causing enough damage that they had pushed nearly five miles up the road into their territory. Local forces would certainly be distracted by that more than hunting for a small group of men in the wilderness. At least, that's what Minxia hoped. She would much rather excel at espionage that warfare.

* * *

><p>"Nice to finally get you out of the war room," Tore quipped at Franz as they ate with James and Roy in the Mess building. Regular dinner was over, but by the time Roy had convinced his father he needed to eat, all that was left was still-warm rice with chopped pork.<p>

Tore was getting really tired of soy sauce. He was getting pretty tired of rice too.

"I had a phone meeting with Rehnquist," Franz reminded them with a shrug. For that, he had gone to the communications tent, which had been manned –for the sake of avoiding leaks- by Tore, James, and Roy themselves as guards, and all Amestrian communications officers, just as a precaution.

"You know what I meant." Tore wasn't being literal, but he'd take the banter. It was better than the fury that rose in him every time he thought of home. Even though the news was a couple of days old, it sent a jolt through him visualizing HQ in shambles. He hadn't hated the fading paint on the walls _that_ badly.

More, he was concerned, like they all were, for their loved ones. Of course the Hashman Syndicate was going to rain a war of terror down on their home while they were gone. Tore had been assured by Charisa's telegram that she was fine, and the kids were safe, and home security was as tight as it could be.

Franz and Roy had gotten more specific information from HQ and from Trisha, who had apparently been on the team that had helped capture a large number of Syndicate operatives, and a carload of their rockets, including a couple of the larger ones that looked like they were the size that might have made the explosions that had torn up the Assembly Building and HQ.

"The next time I get my hands on a member of the Hashman Syndicate I'm going to castrate him – hot." Roy growled around a bite of pork. "Though I may have to talk to my wife about running into trouble without back-up."

"She had plenty of back-up," James chuckled. "Just not you."

"Exactly."

"At least nothing else should get into the city," James continued, ignoring his brother-in-law's grouchy attitude. "Not with check-points at every road into town." There were also several at critical junctures around town.

"The boys back home will handle the Syndicate," Franz said firmly, though Tore wondered if he was trying to convince himself of that as much as them. "We've got our job here."

"Yeah well, when we're done, I'm going to personally hunt down this Syndicate hide-out and give them a piece of my mind – and my alchemy." Roy snapped his fingers –still gloved against the chill- and sent a momentary lick of flame dancing in the air.

"We can all get in line, probably behind Cal," Tore replied, a little more quietly. The news from Trisha about Alyse's injuries had been the most sobering regarding immediate family.

The door opened, and all eyes instinctively moved in that direction.

It was Ted, paying them no real mind as he moved straight for what remained of dinner.

"Hey, over here, Ted," Tore waved, not bothering with titles. Aside from the guards on the doors there was no one else in the room.

Ted glanced their way and Tore noted extreme reluctance in the younger man's face before he turned back to spooning his food into a bowl. Tore was honestly surprised when Ted actually came toward their table and sat down afterwards.

Not that he looked good. There were dark circles under the Proteus Alchemist's eyes, and that slightly haunted look Tore remembered from his own first war experience. Though, in honesty, he was sure that Ted's continued emotional turmoil came more from what had happened to his team than anything else. Vera had been reassigned to another group. Ted was still assigned to the camp, and probably would be until he made up for his particularly stupid –if bold and successful- move the other day.

Ted did not attempt to make conversation.

Tore was definitely going to have to do something about him. "It looks like we'll be able to start allowing civilian aide into the city in another couple of days," he said, forcing a bit more hopeful note into his voice. "We've got the palace completely cut off and they haven't tried to make an offensive move. I think they've figured out their forces up North are too busy trying not to lose their supply lines completely to worry about reconnection with their troops in the city."

"The Imperial City, at least, is – Mao's again." Franz nodded.

Tore got the feeling Franz had almost said _ours_. While they had been a large part of its claiming, it was weird to remember sometimes that none of what they were reclaiming was theirs, or would be. This was all for Xing. _I wonder if this is how the Xingese and Cretans felt helping us expel Drachma._

Tore's thoughts turned to the soldiers fighting up along those supply lines, aided by Cal's alchemists. He hoped Cal was doing all right. The news about Alyse had to have hit him hard.

**Mar 4****th****, 1984**

Ren stared at the television screen, not entirely believing what she was seeing. The gall of that man!

She sat with her brother, Tao, and Michio, watching the television set up in the communications tent for monitoring broadcasts, and Mao had been called for the moment the broadcast began. It hadn't taken them long to arrive.

On the screen in front of them Teno stood in front of the Imperial Throne, wearing one of her brother's sets of formal wear. General or otherwise, Ren got a twinge of satisfaction at the fact they did not fit the man well.

::I wish to dispel rumors and bring to light truths about the nature of Our situation,:: he said. ::While it is true that the foreigners have flooded the city, and have attempted to capture me, it is untrue that we are in any way defeated by these actions. Several Provinces have allied with us, and our forces are strong. Despite the _supposed_ return of our previous leader, due to the many valid claims to the throne of Xing, I do not relinquish mine, due to both valid bloodlines and the ancient laws of conquest. Tiahuan will continue to carve out a new way and a new Empire. All who are willing to join us in our glorious future that does not destroy the ways of our illustrious past will be welcome. Those who do not will not be so well preserved in the new regime. Your loyalty should be to the Empire of Xing above all else. It is certainly mine. Stand together and together we will move strongly into a new era.::

Ren wished she had heard the first bit of it before they arrived, but one of the communications officers had recorded it and they would be able to watch it at need. Ren was already too mad to want to watch the first portion.

::Wow,:: Mao finally said into the silence of the room, breaking it. Not that anyone else would have spoken before the Emperor. ::He looks even worse in that robe than I do.::

The tension eased, and Tao managed to crack a smile, though he looked like he wanted to punch Teno 's face. Michio looked just as furious.

::Are you going to offer a public response?:: Ren asked.

Mao shrugged. ::Eventually. Let the little dog bark. When the big dog's paw lands, he will be silenced. Until then, I have no interest in listening to his yapping.::

It was logical, if unsatisfactory. Ren knew that acknowledging Teno as a threat more than he was would only cause problems, but she still wasn't to toss him in a fish pond full of Aerugean piranhas. ::Wise,:: she agreed reluctantly. ::Let's teach him a lesson quickly though, shall we?::

Mao's expression steeled. ::If I have to destroy the palace to get him out of there, I will happily number each stick of wood.::

**Mar 5****th****, 1984 **

Nothing ever seemed to run perfectly on schedule. The enemy was funny that way. Two days into the Elrics' plans to take out the missile factories, the had changed their security patterns as if expecting something.

That didn't mean they weren't capable of getting the plan laid out, it had just taken a few days longer than usual to sneak around at odd hours, planting explosives. Will and Winry did quite a bit of that, since they had painstakingly plotted out the critical locations. There had also been the little challenge of hijacking enough material from the plants themselves to make said explosives.

Thankfully Ed had married a genius.

Finally they had managed to plant explosives in critical corners in each of the twelve buildings on the massive complex. When they went, they would set off chain reactions in the buildings.

Will had taken the time to set up an alchemical array that would set them all off from a relatively safe distance.

Relative because there was no realistic way to do so from outside of the facility. Once things started exploding, getting out was going to be a challenge, though one they had anticipated. There were several company vehicles that could be temporarily borrowed to get out of the area. They would have to abandon it quickly, but it would get them away.

"Why hasn't the office building shut down?"

Ed turned at the concern in Al's voice, and looked down the row at the building at the front of the complex. Sure enough, despite the late hour, there was a whole row of lights on along the first floor, all at the back of the building. "That's a good question. There's cars parked outside too." They hadn't been there half an hour ago.

"What do you want to do?" Winry asked. "If they're cleaning crew or something they might be harmless."

"Then we'll need to find out who they are," Will said with a sigh. Ed's nephew looked antsy.

"Let's do it quickly." Ed looked at Al, who nodded and followed. "We'll be back soon," he promised, leaving Will and Winry in the hiding place behind two large dumpsters where they had set up their based of operations. No one really sniffed around behind the dumpsters on a missile factory.

Clearly no one was expecting spies tonight. Ed and Al got into the building with practiced ease, poking their heads around the corner into what proved to be a large bay just long enough to identify who was there before hiding again.

::Thank you for coming,:: one of the Rocket Company's men was saying to three men who were definitely not Xingese: two Aerugeans and a Drachman by the look of them.  
>Ed and Al exchanged looks and Ed knew they were thinking the same thing. <em>Hashman Syndicate.<em> Quietly, they trailed them further through the box-strewn bay, keeping hidden until they saw it.

Two long, strong, shimmering metal wings reached out from a smooth metal body. Perched on three wheels, the machine looked ready to take to the air.  
><em>What the hell is a plane doing in Xing?<em> Ed couldn't stare. If he was looking long enough to stare, he might get caught. He tuned back in to the conversation as pleasantries ended.

::Your special order, as promised,:: the businessman said, gesturing proudly up at the airplane. ::To your particular specifications. It will deliver the rockets you requested with more accuracy than anything ever before seen.::

::Excellent.:: One of the Aerugeans nodded. He seemed to be in charge of this particular group. ::You received payment?::

::In full,:: the businessman nodded. ::We are pleased to do business with your group. Hashman has proven to be a man of his word in all of our dealings. If you excuse me a moment, I will get the contractual agreements and the ignition key from my office.:: He turned and vanished out of sight.

"She's a real beauty," the Aerugean dropped into accented Amestrian when the man was gone. He stepped up and laid a hand on the plane's fuselage. "First of her kind."

"We need to get it back to Fort Cilin with this baby as soon as possible," the Drachman agreed in just as thickly accented Amestrian. Apparently it was the only language they had in common. "They will need it if the next attack on Central Command is to go off as planned."

"It'll be easier than setting off the West City job," the other Aerugean said, though his accent was so slight Ed got the feeling he might be Amestrian raised. "I almost didn't get out of that one with my skin. I did lose most of my hair in the fire, thanks to that alchemist bitch."

Ed's momentary shock turned to raging fury. He was going to kill him. He was going to go out there and take revenge on the guy that had killed his daughter. He was-

-stopped by Al's knowing hand on his arm and a pained look on his brother's face even as Al shook his head and mouthed _don't do it yet. _

Yet. At least he hadn't said ever. Ed nodded.

The Xingese businessman returned. ::Ven assures me these are all in order. The projectiles are already loaded into the cargo bay and the launch mechanisms are quite simple to understand.::

Ed pulled Al back several yards into the rows of crates. "New plan," he whispered frantically. "We take these guys out, take the plane, then blow this place sky high, fly to this Fort Cilin, and drop in on the rest of the syndicate in their own plane."

Al looked startled, then thoughtful. "It would be a much better escape vehicle than that truck."

Ed nodded. "I'll put these guys out of action and steal the plane. You go find Winry and Will and make sure they get back here. Once everything starts blowing up we'll want to get out of here fast." They couldn't be pursued effectively from the ground, and he didn't see any other planes.

"Don't make a move until the first building explodes," Al suggested. That was the furthest one away from this building, down at the far back end of the compound. "That will give you three minutes and a distraction if you need one. Is that enough time?"

"Three? Please, I could do this in two, Al." Ed grinned. "But three is a nice safety buffer."

"I figured as much. Still, if you have to… leave without us." Al nodded, and then vanished on silent feet into the shadows.

Ed edged back towards his original vantage point, where he could just see them if he peaked between two boxes, but he was hidden in shadow and they wouldn't see him.

Then he settled in to wait.

* * *

><p>"You two can't ever leave a simple plan simple can you?" Winry asked Alphonse, though she felt a little bit amused by this typically Ed and Al turn of events.<p>

"It is a much better escape vehicle," Al pointed out. "And the last place they will be expecting us to fly is exactly where they were planning on taking it."

"A fair point," Winry agreed with a nod. "All right. It's not like we have time to debate this and Ed's already in place. We're almost ready."

Will, who was manning the transmutation circle that would set off their distant chain-reaction, nodded. "Give me just another minute and we'll blow this place."

* * *

><p>What was taking them so long? Edward tried not to twitch or tap his foot as he waited in his hidden viewpoint. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt quite so impatient in the middle of a mission. Not since his younger days certainly; but years of training his mind and body to patience, to a warrior's fine-honed abilities – and being old enough that sometimes bouncing around hurt- seemed to have flown out the window in the face of the enemy before him.<p>

_I'm going to make you pay for every evil you've ever committed… starting with killing my little girl._

He felt little guilt at the fury and wish for vengeance within him. He hadn't felt so strongly furious in years. The loss of Sara had been a blow he had always known might come, but had still had no reason to expect when it came. A man braced for death in times of war. Peaceful meetings on home turf were not meant to be causes for immense grief.

_It's got to be close. _

Feeling bold in his rashness, Ed stepped out from behind the boxes. "Hey there," he barked a greeting as he strolled with seeming nonchalance towards the three Syndicate members.

Their moment of surprise –a brief hesitation- was their first mistake.

Ed came forward in a rush and grabbed the one who had spoken of West City by the throat, slamming him up against the wall with his automail hand as he twisted the guy's collar. "You were at West City? Are you the one who blew up the storage building?"

Stunned, the man gasped and responded in Amestrian. "Y—yeah. That was me. What do you care old man?"

Ed's grin held no humor. "You killed my _daughter_ you bastard." A pure blaze of alchemical energy emanated from the man's body, and moments later he slid to the floor dead as Ed released his collar. _And that was better than you deserved. _

Ed turned around and faced the other Syndicate reps who were both staring at him as if they couldn't believe what they had just seen. Ed privately wondered in that moment how Hashman had managed so much destruction and business with idiots like these.

In the distance, he heard the thunder of the first building going off.

_And now, we start counting. _

Ed looked at the one holding a gun on him. "Do you really think you can stop me?" he asked, his voice cold with disdain. "You hear that sound? That's your entire future going up in flames. They don't pay you enough for this job."

The bigger man –the Drachman- was creeping around to the side.

Ed slammed his palms together and then stuck his hand out sharply to the right toward the guy. A blast of alchemical energy slammed him in the chest and he fell over, twitching.

The other man fired, and it was only pure instinct that brought Ed's auto-mail arm up as he dropped low, the bullet ricocheting off his auto-mail… right back into the guy's leg..

Ed stood up, panting slightly, and walked over to the gun. He picked it up…and crushed it in his auto-mail hand. Then he tossed it into a corner where it plinked uselessly off the wall. "If you can get out of here, you've got less than three minutes. I recommend you run."

The man's face had gone sheet white, in stark contrast to the red blood oozing from his wound. "Wh-who are you?"

A second explosion went off in the distance.

"Didn't I just introduce myself?" Ed asked as he looked up at the plane. He heard voices, and footsteps running, but they were all getting farther away. The were more worried about their precious factories than their business partners apparently. "I'm Edward." He held up his auto-mail arm, and said nothing else. After all, he should need no further introduction to anyone who hated alchemists enough to join the Syndicate.

"Fff-ffullmetal?" The man stared at him, horror stricken.

The third explosion went off, sounding far closer. Ed tried not to be nervous. They would be here…. "The one and only." He looked up at the plane and placed his hands on his hip bones. "I meant it when I said you should get out of here. This building's going to explode any minute, and I'm not here on a rescue mission."

The man staggered to his feet, and limped away as fast as he could. The other had gone still on the floor, unconscious or dead, Ed wasn't going to bother checking.

Ed climbed up the ladder next to the plane, and into the open door. This was bigger than the little one or two-seaters that had been prevalent in Germany after the Great War. It looked more like a bomber, which was what it was of course given the conversation he had just overheard. It would easily seat the four of them, even though it was loaded down with a good haul of cargo marked explosive. As Ed understood it, the thing was also loaded and ready to fire.

If Winry, Al, and Will were on schedule, he had forty seconds until they arrived. A minute and that until the whole place blew around them.

Another explosion not so far away blasted in the distance.

Ed moved to the cockpit, praying that his memories and studying his old notes would be enough to get this thing started and in the air. It had been so long –a lifetime and a world ago— since he had flown. But now their lives, and the lives of countless others, depended on getting out of there, and making it impossible for the Syndicate to carry out their plans against Central. Ed's stomach had seized tightly at the mention of a prior attack on Central that they hadn't heard about. He hated being out of touch.

_Boom. _

His hands moved over the controls, which were reversed from what he might have expected, but turned out to be labelled, and relatively easy to understand. The yolk and the throttle were clearly identifiable, and a quick scan of the marks on the dashboard identified the buttons he needed to throw to prime and start the engine. Fingers moving quickly, Ed followed the basic instructions, and the engines below him roared to life…purring.

_Boom._

Two minutes until it blew. Winry and the others were late, having not yet entered the makeshift hanger. Sitting inside was a bad idea. Ed flipped another switch and the plane began taxiing towards the open bay doors. It would be easier for them to join him outside.

Leave without them, Al had said. No way. Ed took a deep breath, and counted. He still had fifty seconds…..forty-five seconds… forty seconds… thirty seconds….

_Boom._

Twenty seconds…

Around a corner came three figures at a sprint, two men and a woman running as fast as they could. Behind them, the building right next to the one Ed had left exploded, sending debris sailing through the night. People were beginning to crowd through the gates now, those who lived nearest arriving on the scene. They were scrambling forward, then stopping as they realized that running into the blazing conflagration coming from nearly every building was going to require fire suppression to be stopped, if they were lucky.

Ed was grateful he had left the plane side door open on purpose. He slowed the plane to a crawl as Will, then Winry, then Al, vanished from his viewpoint. He didn't dare stop completely, they had to be clear of the explosion.

Ed heard a thump against the side of the plane, then another…

* * *

><p>"Get in!" Al shouted as Will, hitting the ladder first, stopped and turned, grabbing Winry and hoisting her up.<p>

"Ladies first!" Will grinned as Winry squealed in surprise, but clambered the rest of the way up.

"Now you," Al insisted as the plane started to roll.

"No, after you," Will insisted, shoving his father against the ladder hard enough that Al, caught off guard, stumbled, and had to scramble up in order to keep from being dragged by the still-moving plane. As soon as he hit the deck he was on his knees.

"Come on!" he shouted, turning and reaching his hand down. The plane was picking up speed, and his fingers brushed Will's, trying to get a grip and haul his only son up after him—

— they slipped through his grasp. "Damn it. Ed, _slow down_!" Al shouted, but he knew his brother wouldn't be able to hear him over the engine, the propellers, and the explosions. In the distance, sirens went up. There was no more time—

And the building behind them exploded.

Will was running full out now as the plane taxied towards the longest, emptiest stretch of parking lot. Al felt a desperate surge in his stomach. There had to be time. Will had been a track star in his youth. He could make it.  
>But Will wasn't sprinting anymore. "Don't worry!" he shouted to Al as he started to slow. "I'll meet you in the Imperial City! Now close that door!"<p>

"Will!" Al reached one last time, but he slipped, and he had a brief flash of his face slamming into the pavement—

— Before Winry's hand on his collar saved him, yanking him sharply back in, and sending them both tumbling to the ground.  
>The door slammed behind them.<p>

"Oww…" Winry gasped, still panting heavily from the run. "Alphonse! Are you all right?"

Al rolled off Winry, a leaden weight in his stomach. This couldn't be happening he wanted to wail, though he knew better. "No. We've got to save him!"

Winry had tears in her eyes. "If we stop now, we won't be able to take off. We're already accelerating. If we try to stop without enough runway…"  
>They would crash, and everything in the plane would go up with them.<p>

"Damn it." Al stood, then spun and slammed his fist into a bulkhead. The sting of the metal and the jarring pain in his hand did nothing for the pain inside him. "He'd better get out of there." _You can't die here, William Elric. Ren will never forgive me. Elicia will never forgive me. _I_ will never forgive myself. _

He felt the plane lift off the ground as the engine's whine changed notes, and then they were airborne and rising quickly. He staggered and grabbed for the seats against the back wall. Then he reached out for Winry. "We should strap in until Ed gets us up to altitude."

Winry took his hand gratefully, and nodded, strapping herself in with surprising calm given the situation. "I'm so sorry, Al."

"It's not your fault, Winry," Al assured her. It was the Hashman Syndicate's fault, and when they got to their lair, the Syndicate would be sorry it had ever heard of the Elric family. Alphonse would make certain of that.


	23. Chapter 23

**Mar 6****th****, 1984**

Xaotan turned out to be a very impressive city, even if it wasn't nearly as large as Minxia had been expecting. It spread out before them in a little river valley between low-lying mountains which glistened in the rare bit of sunlight. It would have been pretty if she could think of it as anything less than hostile territory.

At least their last radio contact with Grandma and Ling Yao had been more positive than the alternative, Minxia thought as she surveyed the city from their vantage point in the brush on a shadowed hillside.

Four of the eastern provinces were mustering forces to come to their aid along the Yao/ border. That would certainly require the to put more forces into protecting their eastern borders. If they could force them to fight on multiple fronts, it could only help increase the chances of the war crumbling quickly, and in Imperial favor.

Minxia hoped that was the case. As fast as she knew this war was progressing, there was no guarantee it wouldn't turn into a long, drawn-out engagement if the refused to surrender. Minxia didn't want to think about what would happen if her uncle was forced to fight a war that would require the full subjugation of the province. There were still innocent people here as well, going about their daily lives.

It wasn't all good news. There were concerns that a couple of other provinces, sympathetic to the principles of , might get involved.

_So we need to get everyone out of here as soon as possible._

::How are we going in?:: Minxia asked Colonel Usan softly.

::Separately,:: Usan replied. ::We will go in at different times, arriving separately and from different directions. I have visited Xaotan under more peaceful circumstances. There is a roadway inn just inside the southern wall that sees a lot of out-of-province travelers. They ask few questions as long as you can pay the rates.::

::Can we?:: Minxia asked warily.

::The Yao family does not travel without the necessary funds on this kind of trip,:: Panxao Yao commented, grinning from beneath his radio-pack.

Colonel Usan handed out enough money for a couple of nights stay –to start- to each member or set of members of the team who would be traveling in together.  
>::Won't Minxia and I be obvious if we're together?:: Thrakos asked in halting Xingese.<p>

Minxia shook her head just as the Colonel did. ::You and I look the least like locals. Vacationing lovers caught in Xing at the wrong time would be more likely than that you and I both happen to be in alone right now.::

::I'll trust you.:: Thrakos replied as the teams split up, then his voice lowered for her ears only. "Lovers?"

"What's wrong? Too hard a part for you to play?" Minxia tweaked him just a little. She knew what he was thinking.

Thrakos chuckled nervously. "Not at all."

That was the end of frivolity as they split up, moving around towards the south road, while part of the party went around to the north. From a pre-determined point in either direction, the split teams would make their way individually into the city at randomly drawn intervals so it wouldn't have a clear pattern.

Minxia and Thrakos would be arriving next to last from the south. It made Minxia edgy to sit still that long, knowing that they would be strolling into a city without the protection of the guards they had fought alongside on the way here. Not that it would last long if all went well. If they were fortunate, they would all be meeting up in the mentioned hotel without incident. They would have to pretend that they weren't all acquainted, but that didn't have to last long as a charade. If all went well, they wouldn't be there that long.

The sun was nearly down when Minxia and Thrakos approached the city. Minxia tried to pretend her palms weren't sweating, though she kept them jammed tightly into her coat pockets, even with one arm laced through Thrakos'.

Thankfully the particular gate they were taking into the city was not heavily guarded. Minxia wondered if they felt so safe here in the middle of their territory that they didn't think a gate meant primarily for locals, since it was slightly off the main road, would require it.

Minxia got ready to put on their act, and as they approached the gate, she giggled, and leaned against Thrakos a little more obviously. ::You say the funniest things, honey!::

::Glad you think so,:: Thrakos beamed down at her with a saccharine, smitten expression that was far worse than any she had ever seen on his face, even when he'd been hit with an alchemical love potion in high school.

She was glad they had practiced their lines on the road. Thrakos' Xingese sounded far more convincing than general conversation.

::Business?:: the guard asked as they arrived at the gate, though the look on his face said he had a sneaking suspicion as to what, and he wasn't necessarily thrilled.

::Pleasure,:: Minxia chuckled, then blushed. ::My husband and I were on our way back to our hotel after a – romantic walk under the sunset,:: she gestured at the orange glow off the clouds.

The guard must not have been on the gate earlier, because he seemed to take the story at face value. ::Honeymoon?:: he asked with exaggerated patience.

::How'd you know?:: Thrakos managed to sound genuinely surprised.

::Lucky guess. Have a good evening Sir, Ma'am. Congratulations.:: None of which sounded at all sincere.

::Thank you,:: Minxia bubbled, and continued to snuggle Thrakos' arm with far more enthusiasm than necessary until they were inside and out of sight around the next corner.

They didn't drop the act completely until they had arrived at the hotel, procured a room, and were safely behind a locked door.

"Wow, acting like that is hard," Thrakos sighed with relief as he dropped down on the bed, leaning back against his hands. "I don't know how your cousin Ian does it."

"It's his job," Minxia pointed out with a similar sigh as she sat down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder in a much more comfortable and real display of affection. "At least we're here, and I could see the house Usan was talking about when we took that one turn."

"The road that leads straight up to it like the road to the Imperial Palace is sort of a dead giveaway," Thrakos pointed out.

"Presumptuous too," Minxia snorted.

"Your mother's the princess, not you," Thrakos teased as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. One arm snaked around her waist. "So, now that we're alone…"

"So much for needing to act." Minxia play-shoved him, though her heart was fluttering. They _were_ alone, in a presumed honeymoon suite. They had a little time before the rest of the team arrived. She had seen three of their men downstairs sitting separately, and two more having a conversation, as they had checked in and been shown upstairs while the bellhop listened to their bizarre story of a backpacking honeymoon gone slightly awry –which explained their odd luggage.

He had left them alone with a sigh of _crazy foreigners. _

Thrakos caught her hand, and kissed it, then let it go so he could caress her hair and cheek. He kissed her with a warmth fueled by love, and danger. Here they were in the middle of an adventure that Minxia wasn't entirely sure she would have believed.

And she was alone with her handsome male co-star….

Minxia lost herself in the moment, letting the tension and fear she had felt on the road go as Thrakos pulled her into his arms and they tipped sideways on the bed, kissing fiercely.

There was a sharp rap on the door. ::Room Service.::

Minxia sat bolt upright, startled. Thrakos didn't look much better. He stood and cautiously went to the door.

It was Colonel Usan and the communications specialist, Panxao Yao at the door. They had come in together pretending to be a pair of brothers. Yao was grinning as if he knew exactly what he had interrupted.

Minxia felt her head and realized how mussed her hair was. Trying to keep it casual, she gave them a dirty look. ::You're not room service.::

The men had already closed the door behind them. ::It sounded less conspicuous in the hall,:: Panxao explained.

::We took the opportunity to "sightsee" around the edge of the family home on my way here,:: Colonel Usan commented. ::Our best entrance options are through the front gate and a tiny, rarely used gardeners gate along the back wall that is likely locked and currently covered in climbing roses.::

::Particularly thorny ones,:: Panxao added.

Neither sounded like a great way in. ::Okay,:: Minxia sighed as she smoothed her hair and settled down to business. ::So…what options does that give us?::

* * *

><p>Winry didn't like feeling helpless, though she still felt that way as she watched Alphonse pace the very short path between boxes of rockets with a look on his face that bounced between concern and a manic fury that made her uneasy.<p>

She had seen that look before, though usually on Edward's face, and she could imagine quite clearly what was going through Alphonse's mind.

Probably because it wasn't likely to be too different from her own, if just far worse. They had left Will behind in the middle of absolute chaos. His chances of getting out alive were bad enough. Getting out of enemy territory completely would be another thing entirely.

Yet he was an Elric, and Winry had learned long ago not to under-estimate her family.

That didn't make watching Al's agony any easier to bear.

Finally, Winry stood up and put a hand on Al's arm. "Let's go up front and talk to Ed. We need to figure out our plan of action when we arrive at the Fort." The boys had told her in bits along the flight so far what they had overheard.

The fact that Ed had killed the man who had set fire to the building where her daughter had died had left her cold. Winry had never condoned revenge. She had never been able to go through with it herself. Yet she couldn't bring herself to scold Edward for his actions. Not yet.

Al nodded at her comment, and together they went back up into the cramped cockpit, where Edward was still focused on flying the plane.

"Do you want a rest, Edward?" Winry offered. They had been in the air for hours, though they had been required to stop once, briefly, for fuel. That had been a trick, but Ed and Al had cheated brilliantly, using alchemy to pull up crude oil from the ground and transmute it into fuel for the plane before syphoning it into the fuel tanks. Then they had taken off again.

But none of them had slept, and Winry could see the strain around her husband's eyes.

"N- yeah, actually." Ed nodded, and they carefully swapped out who had the controls, Winry sliding into the seat Ed had just vacated.

"We need to decide what we're actually doing when we arrive," Winry reminded him as she checked the various gages on the panel, their speed and altitude, and decided that while they were flying relatively low, which took longer, the route Ed was taking was probably safest and the best for avoiding notice.

The irony was not lost on her.

Ed nodded as he slid into one of the smaller seats behind her, and she heard Al lean against a bulkhead. "I'm still all for dumping our entire payload here on top of them and calling it a day."

"That does sound appealing," Al agreed.

"Shouldn't we at least consider the possibility that there might be innocent people in the vicinity?" Winry suggested, trying to head off the more bloodthirsty options.

"Not if they work for the Syndicate," Edward grumbled, but Winry didn't think he completely meant it.

"I'm serious," she replied with as patient a voice as she could manage. _One _of them had to remain the voice of reason.

"So am I," Edward retorted, snapping. A moment later she heard his jaw crack and an audible yawn. "This is our chance to not only find their hideout, but to deal them such a blow they have no hope of recovery."

"You might also blow up the research they have that led them to this level of technological breakthrough," Winry pointed out.

"A point," Al commented begrudgingly. "Much as I hate to admit it."

"Thank you, Alphonse." Maybe she could get through to them now after all; now that they were all bordering on exhaustion. Perhaps it would be best to put down again for the night if she could find a good empty stretch of road. "I'm not saying we shouldn't destroy any weapons they have," she pointed out. "I just think we should see what's there before we destroy _everything_ wantonly."

"What's wrong with wanton?" Ed said with a particular lude lilt in his voice.

Winry rolled her eyes. "That was bad even for you."

"Yeah. It was." Ed yawned again. "Damn, I'm tired."

"I'm looking for a place for us to put down before it's entirely dark," Winry informed him, making the call while she could. "We're tired, and a couple of hours nap will just help throw off anyone trying to figure out where we are." Not that she expected anyone to be able to keep up with them on the ground, but it was very possible that word had reached Fort Cilin by now that the factory was nothing but flaming ruins. Whether anyone reported the plane taking off or not, Winry suspected word would get back to them. After all, this was the first flying machine in Amestris outside of hot air balloons and the crazy inventions of alchemists and engineers that almost never seemed to work.

_We'll all feel mildly less destructive after a good rest._

At least, Winry hoped so.

* * *

><p>The army's first mistake was that they had decided to make a stand to protect the train bridge.<p>

The second was to choose a bridge over a beautiful, rushing river.

Cal found a release for all of his anger and worry in the storming rapids, whipping them up into more than froth, sending them pouring over the bridge, lancing in shards of near-ice and smacking soldiers off the rails or the edges of the river.

Too bad that strategy hadn't worked for long. The army had moved away from the cliffs, rendering Cal's abilities somewhat less effective as they pushed The Amestrian-Xing units more fiercely.

Cal found himself fully embroiled in combat, face to face with the enemy. Some things could be blocked with his alchemical attacks, but others required more direct measures. Finding himself shoved painfully up against a rock near the cliffs, he had to pull his pistol, jamming it right into his assailant's stomach and pulling the trigger to avoid taking a bayonet to the head. _Who fights with bayonets anymore anyway? _

His enemy's blood spread across Cal's uniform as the man slid to the ground. Cal pushed him away and straightened, momentarily free of attack, and took stock of the situation-

-as the tell-tail whistle of an incoming missile sent him to the ground, his alchemical gloves pressed into the dirt. A wall of water rose up from the river below, crashing into the rocket dropping towards his men, and tossing it backwards like a diverted badminton birdie.

The missile tumbled end over end back into the soldiers on the far side of the bridge, and exploded in a conflagration of bodies and trucks. Debris scattered everywhere.  
>On their side of the river, the fighting held momentary pause as the realized the havoc being wrought by their own weapon.<p>

The Amestrians and Xingese Imperial Army took advantage and pushed back, shoving them once again up to the edge of the precipice.

Two more rockets arced in the air, and Cal took out one, and one of his subordinates -Major Enid Rolling, the Boulder Alchemist- took out the other with a barrage of rocks. Both exploded well over their heads.

Cal didn't see the third until it was too late. Coming in right behind the two they had destroyed, it shot over their heads, slamming into the truck nearly two hundred yards behind the main enemy lines that contained their communications equipment.

There was chaos behind and chaos ahead, Cal dove back into the fray, taking out soldiers -more knocked unconscious than killed, but he was all right with that- with almost every alchemical blast of water. Another half-dozen were lost over the cliff into the rapids below. The fall wasn't enough to kill a man, but Cal couldn't be sure about the rocks in the icy water.

He had other things to worry about. One of his alchemists went down at his feet, clutching a bloody leg. Cal dropped, examining the wound quickly. Thankfully it had only hit the meat of her thigh and nothing vital. "Medic!" Cal barked. "Hold in there, Starlight," he gave Lexa's hand a squeeze.

The twenty-eight year old nodded, not crying out though her face was a grimace of pain. "I'm not… done… Sir."

"Of course not. You're too tough." Cal hoped he sounded reassuring. His voice was hoarse from shouting orders.

A moment later a Xingese medic appeared at their side and Cal was relieved to see him pull out a square of fabric with an alchemical array drawn on it. An alkahestrist would put her to rights quickly.

Cal left the man to it. He'd check in on Lexa when this was over. For now, there was a bridge to destroy. It wasn't as if there weren't other ways across the river. This one would just destroy the transport system for supplying and moving their military.

It was time for a little Whitewater destruction.

"Alchemists on me!" Cal bellowed, hoping enough of his men and women were available for a concerted strike. He couldn't be sure how many were not engaged in direct combat, but there should be enough for what he had planned.

Boulder joined him, and within another twenty seconds four more alchemists appeared out of the haze of mist and gun smoke. Cal tallied their strengths: water alchemy, rock specialist, two with a general range of all-trades abilities, and a metals expert who was particularly good at force-aging or un-aging metals.

Perfect.

"Oxide," Cal barked at the metal specialist. "You're going to destroy that bridge on my mark. Slate, weaken the cliffs at the base of either end. Beryl and Rugged, cover their backs."

"What are you doing, Sir?" Slate asked as the rest nodded.

"Things are about to get wet."

Like the experienced, trained alchemists they all were, everyone took formation, charging together through the combat zone, dodging pockets of engagement in order to reach the bridge, and slamming anyone who got in their way with whatever they had. Cal was grateful for the gloves. He'd have been even more grateful to have Fullmetal or True Soul on the team.

_Or you, Twilight. Our old _team_ would have wiped the floor with these guys._

They came to a stop less than ten yards from the end of the bridge, and in a blinding series of flares, alchemical energy surged through the bridge and the ground around it.

The rocks trembled and crumbled around the foundation of the bridge, while the metal was turning orange with rust at a vastly accelerated rate.

The Beryl and Rugged Alchemists were covering backs with a barrage of attacks aimed at anyone who tried to come at them.

Cal dropped to the ground, needing full contact for what he was about to do, and drew a particularly complex transmutation circle in record time. Then he slammed his hands into the dirt and sent as much energy as he could down into the rocks of the riverbed below, and into the water itself, churning the already pounding rapids around and around until they began to form a waterspout, which rose rapidly into the air, connection with the clouds above.

Vaguely aware of shouting around him –mostly in Xingese- Cal sent his tower of water slamming into the bridge, and the last of the metal screamed and creaked and broke. The concrete and rock crumbled, and the entire thing fell to the bottom of the chasm.

Cal wasn't finished, though he was already sweating profusely despite the chilly, damp air. As the twisting waters finished demolishing the bridge, he turned them on the opposite shore, sending it walking through the army on the far side, flinging men and artillery left and right, slamming their transport train off the tracks and leaving it a twisted mess.

No one was fighting on his side of the river now. He sensed people, but they seemed to be standing around staring in shock.

Finally, Cal ran out of energy. With one last surge, he stopped transmuting and let the waterspout die, and leaned against his hands, dragging in deep breaths and trying not to pass out as the energy drained from him. _Damn I miss being young._ Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone except maybe Alyse.

The stray thought only brought a well of fear to his throat, and he nearly gagged on the knot that formed.

::Are you all right?::

Cal looked up, surprised to find himself looking at Shan Xian, who looked nearly as battered as Cal felt, though the younger son of the Emperor had certainly had no problem charging into battle with the rest of them. ::Should you be fighting?:: he asked, probably stupidly.

::You rather stopped the show,:: Shan replied, offering Cal a hand, which he accepted without self-consciousness. Cal wobbled slightly but was soon steady on his feet. As he looked around, he realized that the remaining soldiers on their side of the bridge were being rounded up, the fight taken out of them having watched most of what was near the bridge decimated.

Too bad it wasn't the entire army. Still, Cal suspected they wouldn't be making any kind of push back down towards the Imperial City anytime soon. Still, the other side of the river was in chaos, and no one was firing on them anymore.

Cal felt momentarily light headed, and only as he put his hand to his forehead did he realize he had a gash across his forehead and no idea how he had gotten it other than "sometime during the fight." ::Looks that way,:: he managed a response to Shan's comment. ::We should head back to command.::

Shan nodded. ::You need a medic.::

::Good thing I don't need a radio,:: Cal quipped as they started walking, though the bitterness in his tone gave away too much of his inner conflict, he realized too late.  
>Shan did not say anything as they walked back behind the lines to the medical tent set up well out of range of anything except an exceptionally accurate rocket. He vanished while Cal was being patched up by the doctor, who used alchemy to heal the worst of the scratch, but did not waste the energy it would take to heal it up completely. There were too many wounded in far worse condition. <em>My wife among them.<em> He had failed her. By being on the wrong battlefield, he had failed her.

::All right,:: Shan said when he returned. ::Are you going to tell me what's wrong?::

::Besides losing good men?:: Cal asked flatly.

::This isn't about today's fight,:: Shan replied, sitting down in a chair across from Cal in the recovery ward. ::Water alchemist or not, you've had a storm cloud over you ever since that telegram the other day. I know about the attack on Central.:: He left it hanging there.

Cal sighed. Shan would understand, he reasoned. His own wife was captured. ::Alyse – my wife – is in the hospital in critical condition. I haven't gotten any news since then. I have no idea…" and his voice caught, and he fell silent. It was more than he had wanted to say. His personal matters could not get in the way of finishing this war. It was more than just about now. He wanted to keep fighting all the way until they hit the Hashman Syndicate. Then he would destroy them both.

Deep sympathy and understanding crossed Shan's face. ::We will find a way to reestablish communications soon,:: he said after a long silence. ::There will be news waiting with our allies by then, I am sure.::

Cal couldn't even say he hoped so. He swallowed, and picked up the glass of water the doctor had left him. It did nothing to quench his thirst or his pain. ::We need to end this.::

::I agree,:: Shan nodded. ::Unfortunately, I have no miracles.::

::At the moment, I'd take a stiff drink.::

Shan offered a humorless but understanding smile. ::That, I have.::


	24. Chapter 24

**Mar 6****th****, 2014 (Still)**

"You wanted to see me, Shock, Sir?" Ted asked, wondering why he had been summoned to the Communications tent this late in the evening. It was the first time in days he had been summoned for anything other than various menial duties he knew were meant to keep him busy and in eye-shot. He could only hope this meant his penance was over.

Tore nodded and held out a phone receiver. "I've managed to patch you through on a call to Central Hospital."

Central – "What for?" Ted asked. There was no reason he would need to speak to anyone there. The only people he could think of might be Uncle Ethan or Cousin Alyse, but he wasn't that important.

"You need some closure to what happened before you ran off into the city," Tore explained firmly. "I've gotten permission for you to speak the the Alabaster Alchemist."

"Cl-Clarina-" Ted felt his mouth go dry. So she'd arrived back in Central. "I – thank you, Sir." He took the phone in hand, too stunned to think about what he was going to say. He put thie phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Ted?" The voice on the other end was Clarina's but it sounded tired, heavy, and soft.

_They probably still have her on heavy medications._ "Hey – Clarina." Ted swallowed, both his tongue and his pride.

"They said you called," she continued after an awkward moment.

Tore would say it was his idea. Ted rubbed his hair nervously. "Yeah. I've been worried about you." What was she thinking? Did she think it was sweet that he'd called or was she mad?

"Your brother was here today."

It took Ted a moment to realize she meant Coran. "Did you talk about auto-mail?" he asked.

"He's going to make me a new arm," she confirmed, still speaking slowly. "He said they can do the surgery in a couple of weeks. They want to give me a little more time to heal."

"That's good news," Ted felt relieved. "I'm glad they can get you in that quickly."

There was another long silence on the other end. "I'm scared," Clarina admitted softly.

So, still no cheering. "It'll be all right," he promised, hoping he sounded reassuring. "Coran'll make you the best arm out there, and the surgeries don't hurt nearly as much as they used to. At least… that's what they tell me." He hadn't ever had it himself after all, but he had enough family members who had –or worked with- auto-mail that they should certainly know.

"They said it may take me a year to get full use of the arm."

She wasn't given him much to go on with emotions. Ted bit back his frustration. "It'll go faster than you know," he said. "When I get back, we can do things together, and you won't have to think about it all the time. Before you know it you'll be back on duty." _And we can put this whole mess behind us._

More long silence. "I don't know if I'm going to come back."

A rock settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Heart thumping, Ted knew he was going to have to say the things that had been whirling around in his head if he wanted the sense of closure Tore had been talking about. Yet, with Clarina on the phone, he found he wasn't sure he had the courage to say them. "If – if that's what you want," he said, trying to be supportive. "You know I'll still be your friend – right? I – Clarina…" _Do it, Elric. You don't have long and if they end this call it'll be months before you get another chance. _"I'm so sorry," the words finally rushed out of his mouth in a jumble. "I never meant for this to happen to you. If I'd been faster, or something, maybe I could have protected you better. But—"

"Ted—"

"I wasn't, and you got hurt, and it's all my fault—"

"_Edward._"

The use of his full first name brought him up short, and Ted stopped babbling. He could feel hot tears on his cheeks, and was glad he was facing a canvas wall. He didn't want to know what the evening duty communications specialists behind him were thinking. "Sorry."

"I don't blame you," Clarina said. "Things like this… they happen in wars. People get hurt or – or killed." She took a deep breath. "Vera told me about – about Larry."

Vera had spoken with her, and yet she wasn't trying to kill him. Maybe there was hope yet. "Yeah." Ted sighed. "She's… pretty broken up about it still."

"I'm not sure I can do that again," Clarina continued softly. "That's – that's why I'm not sure I'm coming back. Even when I have an arm I – it's too much."

"I'm with you, whatever you decide," Ted replied. The lump in his throat made it hard to speak. "It's not you have to be military for us to go do things together."

"We won't be going out."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I just need – time – away."

"But I-"

"I know how you feel, Ted. I just – I can't right now." There was pain in her voice that had nothing to do with injury. "It's too painful. Maybe – maybe some time."  
>Clarina didn't want him to come near her. She didn't want to see him. His world was shattering. He'd lost her before they'd even had a real chance. "So I can't come visit you?"<p>

"Please… don't."

He wanted to beg, to plead, to refuse to stay away. "All right," his voice betrayed him with a tone of understanding. "You… you need to do what's best for yourself. I understand. Thank you for taking my call."

"Be safe."

"I'll try."

The call ended.

For several seconds, Ted was too stunned to move. Then the sounds of the room around him returned to his senses, and he hung up. When he turned around, he discovered that Tore had not waited around, and both of the other men had headphones on and were listening intently to the radio channels for enemy signals.

He left the tent with a heavy, dissatisfied feeling. Well, what had he expected? She'd just been through terrible trauma, lost her entire arm, and was looking at a year of auto-mail rehabilitation and pain before she might have a normal life back. And even then… she would always have that arm. For Ted, auto-mail didn't mean anything. It was as much a part of the people he knew as their flesh limbs.

But clearly Clarina didn't see it that way. If she wore a strapless dress, or a tank top, her whole arm would be visible. All of her favorite dresses were thick-strapped or short sleeved – at least the ones he had seen her in.

How selfish was he? Hoping she'd cry to him, and want him by her side to see her through this. He was worried about a relationship – and she was just suffering through every minute of her existence waiting for the pain to end.

_God, I'm a jerk. She's right. She's better off without me._

With that cheery thought, Ted went back to his tent. Dinner was still being served, but he didn't feel like eating.

* * *

><p>The sun was not yet down when the plane came around the side of a mountain, and the forested valley containing Fort Cilin appeared below. From above, the layout was clear: a former military fort, several buildings inside a large wood-walled enclosure, just outside a river that shimmered in the last rays of the sun. Beside the river ran train tracks, and on them sat a long train with a few cars that were meant for passengers, but mostly for cargo.<p>

Edward was back in the pilot's seat, having slept hard despite his anxieties. Alphonse and Winry were once again with him in the cockpit, so they all had a view of the land below –

—and a flurry of activity around the trains, where dozens of people were actively loading cargo that looked, far too likely to Ed, to be rockets and other explosives ready for shipment West, the way the train was oriented on the tracks. The crates looked just like the ones in the cargo area of the plane in which they now flew.

There was also a long line of cars that looked ready to move.

"They look like they're going somewhere in a hurry," Al commented from above and behind him.

Winry, whom he could see in his peripheral vision, nodded. "With a lot of very dangerous cargo."

"We can't let them leave," Al continued, his voice harsh with suppressed emotion; rage Ed suspected. He felt about the same.

"And we're not going to let them," Ed replied. "We've got the payload in the back. Let's drop it on that train." If it and the cars beside it were packed with explosive materials, than he could expect a spectacular explosion that would cripple the Syndicate, possibly for good.

"Ed… what if there are innocents?" Winry reminded him.

"It's worth it," Ed countered. He had thought of little else on the way up here besides what they would do. "And I really don't think there are. Look for yourself, but they're going to realize we're here in a second if they haven't already, and if they realize we aren't their men –if they've heard anything— than we're going to be shot out of the sky in the next couple of minutes.

"All right," Winry agreed with extreme reluctance. "We do need to take out the train. Have you figured out how to use the weapons systems?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," Ed replied confidently. He had been looking at the manual that had been left in the plane for the Syndicate members who were now never going to get the chance to make use of it. He hoped that the plans and knowledge to make more had gone down with the buildings that were now flaming rubble behind them.

"Winry, I want you to take over the controls. We'll start with a high altitude drop. After that, fly us in low over the train and we'll do a straffing run. That should limit the damage to our intended targets."

Winry clearly preferred that idea to just leveling the place, which Ed was still all for, and he knew Al felt the same. "I can manage that, no problem."

"Good." Ed swapped out with her at the controls. "Al and I will handle the rest." He turned to his brother. "You can open the bomb bay doors for our altitude drop. I'll fire off the rockets in the lauch tubes when we make the run."

"Got it." Al nodded in agreement, his face grimly determined. Ed knew his brother cared more about destroying the Syndicate and going back to find Will than anything else at that moment. His son was missing in enemy territory, very possibly dead.

As much as that thought hurt Ed as well, he hoped it was wrong. He knew the loss of a child and, even when they were gone, the pain was something he wouldn't wish on anyone. "All right. Let's go."

The three of them were an experienced team, and it took less than a minute to get into positions and make sure everything was ready. Since Winry could see out the cockpit window, Ed and Al had to wait on her signal.

"Bomb bay doors, Go!" Winry called back, and Ed heard the creak of metal as Al took hold of the large lever in the cargo bay floor and pulled. The doors creaked open, and several crates of rockets of varying sizes vanished out of the bottom of the plane.

Al, strapped to the wall to avoid falling out himself, closed the doors again as soon as the crates were clear, and Winry veered away to set up for the run over the train.

Ed waited, and then from a seeming distance, heard explosions. "Did we hit anything?" he shouted from the controls for the rocket launching tubes.

"Buildings," Winry sounded strained, though she wasn't shouting about innocents. "It looks like storage. One of the buildings exploded. The other burst into flames. Get ready, Edward!"

He had to hold on to a handle on the bulkhead as the plane tilted sharply, coming around.

"Fire!"

He didn't have to be told twice. Edward flipped the switches and pulled the lever on one, two, three, four controls. One by one he heard the hiss of metal as the rockets launched from their tubes. The limited visibility and aiming mechanisms needed work, in his opinion, but he would never tell the designers that. This was technology he had never hoped to see in his world.

He could, however, see at least one explosion as Winry passed the train and started to climb sharply once more. "Did they all hit?" he shouted.

"You're an ace shot," Al shouted from the front. "You've got to see this!"

"I will when the pilot decides to level out!" Ed gripped from the back, unstrapping the safety harness and scrambling towards the front the moment the plane was no longer climbing. He hurried back to the cockpit through the much emptier cargo bay.

Winry had come around, higher, and he could once more see the Fort below, but what he saw now was far different. The train had clearly been full of cargo because it was gone, nothing but slag and the tracks were melted beneath the twisted remains.

Despite the scattered bodies and flaming cars, there were people running everywhere, attempting to put out the conflagration, but nothing seemed to be working.

The first drop had hit the fort itself, and the fire on the wooden walls was spreading rapidly several buildings. Everyone on the ground was frantic, and Ed felt momentarily smug at the fact they had taken the enemy so completely by surprise with their own weapon. They didn't even have defenses against it.

_Which is exactly why it doesn't belong here._ The smugness faded in the face of the amount of damage they had done in less than two minutes. "Let's go," he said. "Circle around once we're out of sight and find a place to land."

"You want to go down there?" Winry asked incredulously.

"If there's anything left, I want to see what information they have and find out where they got what they gave the ," Ed replied. "I also want to find out of Hashman's down there. If he is, I want to have a word with him."

"We'll have to come in from a distance away if we don't want to be associated with this," Al commented thoughtfully. "But I agree. We need to investigate the place before we just fly off again."

If they were lucky, they had taken out Hashman and his lead goons, though Ed wasn't sure he felt quite that optimistic.

"All right," Winry sighed, flying away to the north until they couldn't see the Fort anymore, than angling West. Ed kept an eye out for a good place to land and lay low while they decided how best to approach the enemy's now smoldering headquarters.

**Mar 7****th****, 1984**

Will Elric had no idea what town lay ahead of him on the road, but it had to be better than where he had come from. The "borrowed" truck he had taken off in from the rocket facility was nearly out of gas, and he hadn't had anything to eat since the day before. Thankful for finding a few spare bills of Xingese currency in the glove box of the truck, he was reasonably certain he could at least find a meal –and a change of clothes- in the town he was pulling into.

Presuming he didn't run into trouble, he thought, as he noticed a booth at the side of the road that seemed to be a guard booth, since there was no apparent tolls posted.

::Business in Xaotan?:: the official asked, giving him a suspicious look.

_It must be the truck,_ Will realized. That, or his rather beaten demeanor. He had managed to escape with minimal damage to himself, aside from being slightly singed on his clothes and a busted lip after having to punch out the one member of the security team who had realized he didn't belong there and continued to chase after him. ::It's classified,:: he said, taking a risk. ::I have news.::

If the guard had high enough clearance to demand that news, Will was in trouble, but he seriously doubted that the Teno 's family or associates would give a road guard that kind of authority. He just wished he knew what names to drop. ::Do you have your ID?:: he asked.

Will grimaced. ::Do I look like I had time to grab my ID, man?:: He put a condescending tone into his voice. ::I'm lucky I didn't die in the inferno.:: He couldn't imagine they hadn't at least heard news of last night's disaster. ::I need to get into town and report at once.::

::Why wasn't this report called in?::

::In case they've tapped our communications of course,:: Will snorted. ::You're wasting precious time.::

::All right, all right,:: the guard scowled and stepped out of the way. Apparently this wasn't the first time he had been told to shove off by someone in one of these trucks.

_Lucky for me._

Will parked the truck at the first opportunity. He didn't want to be that recognizable when people started expecting a report. He took the money and spent a little time wandering around time, getting his bearings and looking for an affordable hotel. He was grateful he was used to being in disguise, and that the alchemically applied black dye in his hair still hid the dark blond.

Survival, that was his goal now. Will had not stuck around the factory once the plane had flown out of sight towards its goal. He knew his father and uncle well enough to know that they would continue the mission, and the Fort was too far away for them to reasonably come back for him.

So now it was up to him to get out of Province in one piece.

He found a convenience store before he found cheap sleeping accommodations. As casually as possible, he picked up a black shirt –the Xing equivalent of a T-shirt- with writing that said "Love Your Shrine" –it was better than the one about rice, the one about rice-wine, and the one covered in Xingese cartoon goldfish that looked like it had been painted by a drunk. Then he picked up a couple of fried potato-fish pocket things that were surprisingly good smelling.

He had just paid for both, wolfed down his food, and changed shirts in the bathroom when he thought he caught sight of a familiar face on the other end of the store.

_There's no way,_ was Will's first thought, but he caught himself. It wasn't entirely impossible, even if they were at least a couple hundred miles from the man's last known location. And if he was here… Will carefully made his way through the store until he was standing near the man in front of the little produce shelf. ::Thrakos?::

The dark-haired but clearly not Xingese younger man spun around, wide-eyed, and stared at him blankly for several seconds. ::Mr- Uh… Sir.:: He stumbled, and Will realized that Thrakos was trying not to blurt out who he was in the middle of the store. ::What are you doing here?::

::I could ask you the same thing,:: Will said quietly as he pretended to also look at the produce, as if he might still be hungry. ::Is my daughter with you?::  
>Thrakos nodded. ::Yeah. We're here visiting family.::<p>

Cryptic, but Will could follow most things. ::Extended family?::

::Yeah, they're in town.::

Of all the dumb luck. Will nodded. ::I'm looking for a place to stay.::

::Our hotel has rooms, decent food, and the other people are helpful.::

Code for they weren't here alone, most likely. Will would give his left shoe to know how Minxia and Thrakos had gotten here, on the tail of the missing Xingese relatives. ::I think I'll join you.::

He waited while Thrakos picked up some meager provisions himself, and then they walked back to the hotel. ::I have a vehicle,:: he told Thrakos as they walked, ::But it's kind of noticeable at the moment. We'll want to do something about that.::

::I'm sure you'll come up with something,:: Thrakos said knowingly.

Of course, there was always alchemy. Will would have to transmute something, but he could certainly remove the logo, change the color a bit, and maybe even change the look of the car to something else.

As they walked, Thrakos filled him in on what they knew. The building in which the girls and the kids were being kept – he was relieved to know that Mei was safely elsewhere, even if the Yao alliance surprised him. They hadn't been listening to radio or television the last few days and apparently he had missed a lot.

The fact they were locked in there wasn't entirely a secret either, though it wasn't being advertised to anyone who might try to come rescue them. Still, the Yao soldiers that were with Minxia and Thrakos were reportedly capable men and they were working on a plan to bust in and free everyone. With the truck Will had taken, that would answer their problem of needing a get-away vehicle without stealing one that would be quickly missed.

The hotel wasn't huge, only three floors, but the downstairs lobby was also part restaurant, not unlike an old rustic inn. There was even a bar in the corner. Will followed Thrakos up the stairs to the third floor, then down a hall towards the back corner.

::We're in here,:: Thrakos opened the door, and Will followed him inside.

The room was good sized, with one large bed, on the end of which sat his eldest daughter, looking intently at a map on the bed and sipping a cup of tea. Minxia looked up as they came in, then her eyes went wide and she leapt to her feet, almost dropping her cup as she set it down on a little table, and threw herself into his arms.

Will caught her, and held her with a surge of fierce protectiveness. "You crazy girl," he mumbled, feeling a bubble of a laugh of delight and relief try to come from his throat. It came out in a low chuckle instead. "Running right into danger."

"What about you?" Minxia asked, straightening up, tears already leaving tracks down her soft cheeks. "What are you _doing_ here, Dad?"

"Blowing up rocket facilities and making hell for the Hashman Syndicate," Will shrugged. He stepped back, and took another look around for a place to sit. There was only the one bed. "You're sharing a room?"

Minxia looked slightly embarrassed. "We… told the hotel we were on our honeymoon," she explained in a bit of a rush. "It was the most likely story for both of us being here. It's not… we haven't done… well it's only partially a lie." She smiled more brightly. "We're engaged!"

Will's eyes darted to Thrakos, who smiled weakly, but looked like he was expecting to get smacked. From the way Minxia was acting, Will didn't think they had been intimate, but given his daughter was already in her mid-twenties, he wasn't really going to ask either. If she said they hadn't, he would believe her. Which meant he'd let Thrakos live. "Well, it's about time." Finally half of Creta could stop whispering about the rumored love-affair of the son of the President and the Elric-Xian girl.

That was clearly not the response Thrakos had expected, because he looked first stunned, then openly relieved. "I take it you approve?"

"Do you want to know how long your Uncle and I have had a bet going on how long it would take you to talk my daughter into slowing down her world-hopping long enough to get in a wedding dress?" Will asked, crossing his arms.

"Daddy!" Minxia gasped, though he didn't quite buy the scandalized tone in her voice.

Will hugged his daughter again, then offered his hand to Thrakos, giving it a firm shake. "Just don't bankrupt me on the wedding."

"I think we can manage that," Thrakos smiled as he shook his hand. "The old palace doesn't charge for Argyros weddings."


	25. Chapter 25

**Mar 7****th****, 1984 (Still)**

Winry had found a place to land several miles west of Fort Cilin. Once down, they had hidden the plane under the trees using a mix of alchemy and basic camouflage techniques. By then, it had grown dark, and they had decided to sleep and wait until morning to set out towards the Fort.

There were several good reasons for this, even though it chafed at Ed's patience. The biggest one, was if they took longer to show up, they had a better chance of pretending to be reasonably local, and not be immediately assumed to have possibly been related to the incident.

The others were that they needed to sleep, and make sure they had agreed on a plan of attack depending on what they found when they arrived.  
>Against his survival instincts, Ed slept, though fitfully, coming fully awake as soon as the next morning came. There was nothing to eat, and his growling stomach made him grouchy.<p>

"I hope they at least have something left to eat," he grumbled as they trudged the several miles up the road towards their destination.

"If they do, it's probably burnt," Al commented, though he looked just as hungry.

"Will you two stop griping," Winry said from between them. "You're making _me_ hungry."  
>Ed chuckled, and slipped an arm around his wife's shoulders. "Well, as soon as we get back to civilization, I'll treat you to the best meal you've ever had."<p>

"Right now, I'd take a bowl of rice."

As they came over the last ridge and looked down at what had once been Fort Cilin, Ed felt his stomach drop. "Somehow, I don't think we're going to find even that much."

Below them lay chaos and smoking ruins. The fires were mostly out, but they hadn't left much behind. The entire south exterior fort wall was gone, as well as nearly half-way down the east and west walls. The train was twisted wreckage, and not much left of that. The cars were husks. Dead bodies still lay on the ground, where they were recognizable. Most were burnt. They approached slowly, and Ed didn't have to feign the shock and sadness he felt, at least in part, at the destruction they had caused. If this hadn't been an enemy stronghold –the terrorists that had killed Sara, kidnapped Charlie Fischer, and killed and hunted numerous alchemists and now blown Central HQ- he might… _might_ have been more sympathetic.

To his relief, Ed saw no children among the bodies. Though he was slightly concerned by the lack of the living. Surely they hadn't killed everyone. He had seen living people scrambling about as they flew off.

"Let's try here," Alphonse suggested softly as they walked up to what looked like a very unimpressive office building that was still standing, at least partially. It was leaning drunkenly away from the explosions, and covered in soaked char marks.

"This looks promising." Ed was glad there were no bodies in the building, but what he did see was far more interesting; an office space. The three of them spread out, exploring the ruins and digging through desks, looking for anything that might be useful. Smashed filing cabinets yielded mostly ruined papers, soaked and falling apart on the floor, but not everything was destroyed.

Winry's gasp made him stand bolt upright and look up from attempting to decipher what looked like purchase orders for rockets.

"What's wrong?"

Winry held up several sheets of paper. "I think this is what we're looking for."

Ed and Al joined her, and Ed took a couple of pages from his wife. They were tattered but coherent, and they looked oddly familiar. Sketches of airplanes, notes on rockets –called missiles in some notations- and a phrase that made Ed's blood run cold… atomic weapons. The handwriting was also familiar. "These are Dumais' writings," he said. Dumais… Edward Hughes… Krista's father who had come through the gate entirely by accident. "How did they get a hold of these?"

"Maybe someone stole them," Al suggested. "Before the commune we met formed. Or one of the alchemists working with him could have stolen them then, and sold them to the Hashman Syndicate."

"But they were alchemists," Winry pointed out. "Why would they do that?"

"Money?" Ed shrugged, though he was wondering the same thing, his brain racing frantically to put it all together. "Or maybe they didn't know who they were selling it to. It would be just like Hashman and his brother to use alchemists against their own interests."

Al nodded. "What are we going to do with them?"

Part of Ed wanted desperately to pack up the papers, keep them for study, but he didn't honestly see anything on them he didn't already know. "This," he said as he crumpled the pages into a ball. "They'll burn nicely in the ashes outside."

Al and Winry nodded as they all fell silent for a moment, considering the enormity of what they had discovered, and how complex the scheme might truly be. How long had Hashman been trying to put this into effect? Even now, what more might happen back home? Would this even make the Syndicate blink, or would their tyrant simply redouble his efforts. They needed to find out what had happened to Hashman… if he was even really here.

::Who are you?::

They all turned suddenly to see some poor office aid looking guy, bedraggled, with singed hair and minor burns. His glasses were broken, but he still looked like he might try to defend the paperwork against thieves.

Loyal yet stupid. Ed refrained from shaking his head. He put on a disdainful and annoyed look. ::Where's Hashman?::

The man snorted. ::Dead, like everyone else. Don't tell me you're here on business.::

::You might call it that.:: Dead, well now, wasn't that convenient? Well, no reason to blow their cover now. ::What happened here?::

::Traitors… we're not sure,:: he admitted. ::They came in one of our vehicles and destroyed the entire arsenal. We tried to call the factory but no one's answering.::

_Can't imagine why not. _Ed refrained from smiling. Instead he tried to look concerned. ::Can we see Hashman? I mean… pay our respects. Who's in charge with him gone?::

::Me, I think.:: The man shrugged, as if it didn't matter. ::Every one of his lackeys was on the train with him, ready to move out. ::There's not much body to look at.::

Ed wanted to confirm the man's death, but he didn't think this guy had any reason to lie to them. He just wished there was a way to be absolutely certain. ::Don't worry about it. I can see you've got enough problems. I'll just give you the information we were going to report to Hashman. We heard on the radio someone blew up the missile factories last night. He wanted to know if they double crossed him, but our sources reported that instead.::

::So you're part of his spy network.::

::We are.::

::Why haven't I heard of you?::

At least Hashman didn't hire idiots. ::Well come on, do you really think he'd tell anyone about _all_ of his operatives. It's not a very good way of keeping secrets. He didn't tell us your name either, for one thing.::

Either the man bought it, or he didn't care anymore. ::How did you get here?::

::Walked,:: Al cut in. ::We've been stationed in Rinyu for the past couple of weeks.::

_Good thinking, Al._ Again Ed had to fight not to grin. Rinyu was only a few miles away, but it also had a lot of farms and out buildings scattered around the countryside that would make for good set-up locations for intelligence equipment, and almost no one from the Syndicate actually spent any time there do to some hostilities with the locals. ::We didn't tell them who we were working for,:: he added to Al's story.

Plausibility seemed to help, but the man still looked at Winry with suspicion. ::Who's she?::

::I'm the mechanic,:: Winry replied truthfully. ::Someone's got to keep equipment running.::

::You're a mechanic?::

::You want me to show you how well I wield a wrench?::

The implied threat was enough. ::No. No ma'am, that's all right,:: the man backtracked quickly. ::But it's a waste of time to be here. Hashman, Leveux, Lokhov, and Rammeur were all on the train. There's nothing left of them to talk to.::

::What are we supposed to do now then?:: Ed asked, sounding exasperated and hoping there was enough of a note of concern in his voice.

::Only fifteen of us are alive here,:: the man shrugged. ::What can we do besides inform our bases in Central, Othans, Bueaire, and Morgrad?::

::Surely someone will take up the cause.:: Al sounded more convincingly worried and slightly angry at the defeatest attitude the other man was displaying.

::You know very well this was the big plan,:: the nameless office aid snorted in disgust. ::Or you're not nearly as informed as you claim to be. Amestris has been struck a mighty blow, but it's not nearly enough.::

::It'll be hard to finish them off without supplies though,:: Winry commented.

::The other bases are not unarmed, but plans will have to change,:: the aid nodded. ::But first, we must survive.::

::Agreed.:: Ed nodded. ::We can go back to to Rinyu for supplies.::

::I will contact the bases as soon as the radio is working,:: the aid replied. ::Torro is getting me wires from the spare closet.::

::Good. How long do you think it will take?::

::An hour or so.:: The man shrugged. ::I must go. We have wasted too much time.::

::We will get out of your way,:: Winry said, and they turned and left the building.

As they walked past the smoldering remains of the train, Ed tossed the handful of crumpled paper into a pile of red ashes. Immediately it began to blacken and smoke.

They did not speak until they were well outside the Fort.

"Now what?" Winry asked quietly.

Ed grinned. "Well if he's fixing the radio, the phone lines must have been destroyed. So we get back to the plane, find the frequency and listen in on everything the Syndicate has to say on the subject."

**Mar 8****th****, 1984**

As soon as it was dawn, they were in the air with a new destination in mind: Imperial City. Winry had agreed that as soon as they heard what had gone out over the radio frequencies to the various Hashman Syndicate locations -which they fully intended to report to the heads of the relevant countries- they needed to get to Mao and let them know what was going on.

Ed flew, and Winry and Alphonse found the right radio frequency to contact the Imperial Army as soon as they were in signal range of Imperial City.

"I wonder if anyone knows about the explosion yet," Al muttered thoughtfully as they fiddled with the dials.

"The factories, possibly. The Fort, they're about to," Winry replied. "And… there we are!" She found the frequency Amestris used for all its standard military operations.

"You're on, Alphonse."

Al grinned and put the microphone near his mouth. "This is True Soul to Comm One. Come in Comm One."

There were several moments of static, then "This is Comm One to True Soul. Report."

"I have critical information, Comm One. I need a General."

"How about an Emperor?"

Winry blinked, and Al looked startled as he said, "Mao?"

"I guess you missed the announcement that my demise was highly exaggerated," the Emperor laughed. "It's good to hear from you. What's your important information?"

It occurred to Winry that it was possible the enemy would be able to hear their transmission. It also occurred to her that it wouldn't matter. It might even work to their advantage if the world knew that the Syndicate had taken a lethal blow.

"We blew up the rocket factory in ," Al reported, "And then we hijacked their weapons and blew up Fort Cilin, which was -until last night- Syndicate Headquarters."

Their announcement was met with stunned silence so long that Winry began to wonder if they had lost the signal somehow.

"Was anything left?" the question finally came.

"Not much," Al reported, grinning. "We also tapped into their transmissions afterwards and investigated. We've destroyed all of their research and they have confirmed that Hashman and all three of his deputies died when we blew up their train full of rockets."

Now they could hear cheers on the other side of the line from somewhere behind Mao. "Any report on how much of an arsenal they have left?"

"Nothing we can reliably confirm," Al added with honest regret. "But there's absolute chaos in the leadership at this point. It sounds like they're not even entirely sure who should be in charge. Their next-in-command structure didn't reach that far."

_Good news for us, not for them._ Winry hoped that meant that the Syndicate might fall apart now, even if she couldn't be entirely convinced that her hopes were founded on enough to come through.

"What is your present location? We'll send transport for you if we can," Mao continued.

"That won't be necessary," Al chuckled. "We will be joining you before the day is over."

That brought another moment of stunned silence. "And how are you managing this miracle?" Mao asked finally.

"The same way we managed the last," Al quipped. "But I can't say over the radio. You'll see this evening. Please, talk to General Heimler and have him contact Central. They need to know that the Syndicate may try something desperate. They should also inform the governments of the other allied countries –and Drachma- that the Syndicate has bases in Othans, Bueaire, and Morgrad."

"Consider it done," Mao responded.

"Alphonse?" Another voice burst over the channel, and it took Winry a moment to recognize Ren's voice. "Is everyone all right? Can I talk to Will?"

Al's face turned pale. Clearly he hadn't expected Ren, or her question.

"Ren!" Winry cut in, saving him. "It's Winry. We… Will isn't with us. We split up." It was true, even if it hadn't been intentional.

She didn't need to see Ren's face to know that she was upset by the news. "Was he safe when you saw him last?"

"He was smiling," Winry replied honestly. "And he said he'd be fine. We were escaping at the time, without pursuit. They were too worried about the fact we had just blown up all of their factory buildings."

"He's an idiot," Ren replied, though she sounded mildly less stricken.

"He's resourceful," Al cut back in, giving Winry a thankful expression. "He'll be all right."

"We'll speak more tonight," Mao came back on. "I am sure there is much more to discuss."

"Very much," Al agreed. "True Soul out."

Al leaned back against the bulkhead, eyes closed, a look of agony crossing his features.

Winry laid a hand on his shoulder. "You said it yourself, he's resourceful. He'll be all right."

"I hope so." Al's voice was harsher than it had been a few moments ago, thick with emotion. "He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. I know that, Winry, but –

there's no certainty in any of this, is there? But, damn it, he's my_ son_. We can't lose anyone else."

"You're supposed to be the optimist here," Winry smiled gently. "Please don't leave that up to Ed. He's not good at it."

Al didn't smile, but he did twitch in a way that signified on another day he might have. "You're right."

"That you're the optimist?"

"No, about Ed."

* * *

><p><em>If this is going to be just another day on the job, I am demanding a raise.<em> Cal crouched behind a boulder along the roadside, staring back at the wreckage of what had been an Imperial tank only moments before. _Typically stupid response. Find out your boss can't back up his threats, so you throw everything you've got at the enemy and hope you get in your bluff. _

They had managed to get communications restored with Imperial Command only long enough to find out that Fullmetal and True Soul had managed to destroy the rocket factories and the Syndicate's secret headquarters. Apparently the Tiahuan troops had gotten the same information or overheard the communication because less than an hour later, they had launched a bombardment as Shan and Cal had been moving their forces away from the river along the road bridge several miles upstream from the train bridge they had recently destroyed.

The bombardment had been sudden and surprising, given the Tiahuan hadn't even waited for their own infantry to get into position to fire back. A decision by the Tiahuan upper officers most likely.

The reflexes of Cal's alchemists had been all that saved them from worse casualties, deflecting more than half of the barrage off to the sides of the road, and one or two lucky shots back at the like they had before.

_You'd think they'd have learned their lesson the last time._ Cal straightened up long enough to transmute water out of the damp, chilly air, and using it to knock back the infantry attempting to form up ranks on the enemy line. Several stumbled and fell. _Maybe I'll succeed in giving them all head colds. _They were just too far from the river for his alchemy to do as much good as it had there. Maybe they weren't entirely as stupid as he had thought. _You should fear me, you bastards. _

His last successful block of their missiles had –along with the work of two others- destroyed five troop-movers and a another tank. Thankfully, their traditional tight-quarters tactics were proving horribly ineffective against Amestrian alchemists.

The Tiahuan also seemed to be running out of ammunition, at least temporarily. He and Shan hadn't managed to cut them off from their supply lines coming down from the north yet, but the news they had been given implied that there would be far less coming to resupply them.

The front of his bolder vanished in a shower of shards and pebbles. Cal dodged just in time to avoid a chunk that went right through where his head had been moments before. A stinging on his scalp told him he hadn't escaped unscathed. _Well, I did need a haircut. _

::Die Amestrian!::

Cal rolled, ducked a strike from a bayonet, spun, came up, and slammed his forearm into the butt of the Tiahuan soldier's rifle, sending it flying out of his hands. ::Not today,:: he replied, smacking his fist into the other man's face-

-as stars and pain exploded in the back of his head, sending him into black oblivion.


	26. Chapter 26

**Mar 8****th****, 1984 (Still) **

_I can't be dead…. I doubt dead people want good West City bourbon as much as I do right now. _They also probably didn't hurt as badly as Cal did as he came slowly back to consciousness. His head was throbbing, and down somewhere past his hips he was aware of fire in the meat of his thigh and something _off_ about his auto-mail, though he couldn't have said what.

::Are you awake?::

It took Cal a moment to phrase a response in Xingese. ::Yup.:: He opened his eyes slowly, despite the pounding headache. The man standing above him he recognized as one of the alkahestrists assigned to the medical unit. ::You couldn't do something about the headache?:: he complained more coherently.

::I thought you might appreciated more that we saved your leg, and your skull,:: the man replied with a tone that was patient, tinged with sarcasm.

::I guess that changes things,:: Cal retorted. He tried to sit up but the world spun and he immediately relaxed his neck, leaving his head down and his back straight. He looked up at the ceiling of the slate-blue medical tent canvas instead. ::Bastard got me from behind.::

::You have a concussion,:: the man – Dr. Keon if Cal remembered his name even partially right- informed him. ::You also took shrapnel to the thigh and –thankfully- the rest went into your auto-mail instead of hitting further above.::

Cal winced at the thought. _Alyse will appreciate that_— the thought came to a screeching halt as the severity of both his situation and his wife's hit him in tandem. He had almost died _again, _but he still did not know anything about his wife's condition. She might be dead, and he wouldn't know. ::How bad of a concussion?::

::Mild enough, now,:: Keon replied. ::They put a nice crack in your skull. It took us nearly half an hour of treatment to put your head back together. It's rather thick.::

::Thanks.::

::The shrapnel hit the artery in your thigh, so that was a bit messier,:: he continued. ::But we stopped the bleeding and removed all of the fragments. We also pulled everything we could out of your auto-mail. The only damage to that seems to be that the ankle is frozen at an odd angle.::

Which explained why his leg felt out of balance despite the fact he hadn't tried to move it. ::All right.:: Cal refrained from nodding his head. ::When will it be repaired?::

::We have one of the unit mechanics coming in to have a look at it. He's not actually an auto-mail mechanic,:: he admitted apologetically. ::But he's a very good machinist, and the issue appears to be mechanical, not electric or biological.::

In which case, he might be able to at least get his foot functional. ::Is the fighting over?:: Cal asked, realizing that all was quiet except for what he would expect of military camp noises. What had happened while he was out?

::By several hours. Your alchemists and our gunners drove them back over the next ridge, and they are camped well away tonight. They are out of tanks.::

::Hopefully they're out of rockets.:: Cal was so tired of fighting. ::What's our next move?::

::I'm not the strategist, General,:: Keon actually smiled. ::You will have to ask Prince Shan that question when he checks in on you again.::

::He's already been in here?::

::Twice. Apparently he values your council, or at least your abilities.::

::Or friendship.::

Cal tried to look up and immediately regretted it as the world spun and his stomach lurched. He had to swallow not to vomit while lying flat on his back. ::Hey there, Shan… buddy. Don't suppose you brought the invalid something to cheer him up? Booze? A smoke?::

Shan chuckled and came into view as he took a chair by Cal's infirmary bed. "Neither of the latter. The good doctor here would kill me, no matter whose blood runs in my veins. I do, however, have the good news that intelligence reports our friends over the hill are finally out of rockets.::

::About damned time.:: Cal closed his eyes. ::I don't suppose we've heard anything else from Command?::

::Only a brief report that the Elrics have arrived at Command,:: Shan replied. ::In a flying machine of all things.::

Cal opened his eyes again and stared at Shan. "Flying?"

"Apparently Fullmetal called it an airplane,:: Shan nodded. ::A prototype they stole from the and used in making their escape and destroying the Syndicate base.::

That certainly sounded like something Ed, Al and the rest would do. ::Any word from Central?::

Shan's expression fell. ::No. No word on your wife. Also, you should know, that her brother is missing somewhere up in Tiahuan Province.::

Will was missing. Alyse…. And here he lay, unable to do a thing about any of it. ::Have you told them about my injuries?::

::Not yet. It will be in my official report.::

::Tell them… not to tell my family,::

Shan sighed. ::I can't do that.::

::I don't want them to worry.:: Cal sighed. ::How long will I be off duty, Doc?:: The war wasn't over, no matter how successful the last battle had been. He couldn't afford to lay around, and he didn't want to. It meant way too much time for thinking.

::With a couple more alkahestry treatments, perhaps three or four days, if the mechanic can fix your foot,:: Keon replied. ::You need to replenish your blood, rest, and your head needs to heal.::

Thankfully, he could help that along. Cal closed his eyes, remembering at the last moment not to nod. ::It'll do.::

::I'm so glad you approve.::

**Mar 9****th****, 1984**

The hospital bed wasn't uncomfortable, but Alyse was getting very tired of it, and it just wasn't the same as the high-end mattress and linens on her bed at home. More than anything else, she was just sick of being hospitalized. It had already been a week-and-a-half since the attack, and she wanted to go home.

Ethan had assured her that her lungs were healing well, and he had her doing breathing therapy exercises to build up their stamina, but she still found herself tired very easily. She couldn't put any weight at all on her ankle. Ethan had told her that while they could have done more to heal it with alchemy, it wouldn't have done nearly as much to allow it to build up strength, and he _had_ put any of his spare energy into helping it along, but at their age –how she hated that phrase- she just wasn't going to heal as quickly as she had when they were younger.

It was kind of him to use the plural, since they were almost the same age, but it hadn't made Alyse feel much better. At least they let her get up and move around the room a couple of times a day –always on crutches- to keep her muscles working.

After the first couple of days, as she spent more time awake, Alyse had quickly also grown restless. She couldn't say she was bored, because she had plenty to keep her mind busy, mostly worries.

Thankfully, she had her children. This afternoon, like every afternoon –and all day when allowed- her children and Kamika were visiting. Elicia had brought them, and they had brought her things to keep her entertained: two more novels since she had already read the last two they brought, the newest issue of her favorite decorator magazines, and a deck of cards.

The latter of which Alyse was using to thoroughly destroy her teenage son at cards as they sat around her bed –her on it- and played on the blankets.

"How the heck are you _this_ good?" Charlie exclaimed as Alyse's hand beat his out for the fourth time in a row. Gloria and Kamika had both folded in the first three turns.

Alyse chuckled and collected the cards, shuffling them. "Haven't you noticed that _everyone_ in our family is good at cards?"

"Even Grandma Elicia?"

"She can hold her own against Grandpa," Gloria noted thoughtfully. "And Great-Uncle Edward."

"And my Dad," Kamika nodded.

"Your father's better than I am," Alyse admitted, feeling a familiar twinge of worry, though she didn't let it show. She hadn't had any word of Cal in several days, though in this case no news was, typically, a good thing. It meant that he was all right. If something had happened she _would_ have been contacted. There were too many other family members there for someone not to manage it.

Charlie sighed as she dealt again. "Then I've got a long way to go if I'm going to beat him."

Alyse couldn't help it. "Charlie, you have a better chance of becoming as good a fighter as your father than beating him at cards."

"Why, does he cheat?" Charlie asked.

"No," at least not that she had ever caught him. Her father had told her that Uncle Ed had been a terrible cheat when they were kids, but he hadn't in any game she had played in. Cal had always been sneaky, but honest. "He's just very good at bluffing. You need to work on not showing your cards on your face." Her son's animated expressions, even when he tried to school them to some semblance of neutrality, were very telling to someone used to reading the emotions of people who didn't want to tell her the day of the ceremony that they had wanted a very specific shade of teal when they meant to say turquoise.

Charlie stuck out his tongue, clearly frustrated. "Gill and Davy say the same thing," he referred to his two best friends.

"There's nothing wrong with a face that tells the truth," Alyse assured her son. She preferred it, honestly. As much trouble as Charlie got into, he had always been a terrible liar, and usually honest when confronted pretty much immediately. "Unless you're playing cards."

"Right." Gloria grinned. "Enough chatter. Let's play."

* * *

><p>"When we get our own place, remind me not to plant these," Minxia whispered to Thrakos as they managed to free themselves of the thorny Xingese rose plants they had crawled through to get in through the vine-blocked old garden door onto the property.<p>

"Don't worry," Thrakos replied just as quietly, kissing her cheek. "They won't grow in Cretan soil."

"Who said we were living in Creta?"

"Can we argue this later?" Thrakos smiled.

"Please?" Minxia's father asked as he slipped between two bushes and crouched, looking at the back of the house across a beautiful garden koi pond. Will's focus was on the sliding doors on the back, which were closed but did not appear to have locks.

Not that Minxia really cared where they lived at the moment. She was nervous, and the banter helped relieve a little of her tension. But now, they needed to be quiet. It wasn't entirely dark, and it was entirely possible that they might be spotted. Their entry point, thankfully, was not the most obvious one. The ten Yao soldiers they had brought with them had more difficult jobs. Some of them would infiltrate from the front. Others would cause a diversion. If all went well, Minxia, Thrakos, and Will would sneak in, get the family out, and be into the vehicle that Will had transmuted to look like a home repair store delivery truck, before anyone realized they were gone.  
>Which was, of course, why they were striking before everyone was asleep. As counter-intuitive as that seemed, Minxia had been assured that it would be easier to slip in during a period of relative chaos instead of when everyone was supposed to be in bed. If they had timed it properly, the captives would have been fed and the rest of the house would be going through with their settling-in rituals after dinner. It was an unlikely time for trouble, and so they would not be anticipating any more than usual.<p>

"I hope they give the signal properly," Minxia commented as they waited. Inside she could see shadows moving past the walls, or behind them where they were traditional rice-paper screens. She shivered. The garden would probably be lovely in full bloom, but tonight it was cold, even with the high stone walls to block the wind.

"I think they can manage that much," Thrakos commented wryly, before they all fell silent, watching and waiting.

Minxia only wished the signal would come soon. Sneaking into someone else's house to steal something -even if that something was family who were being wrongfully imprisoned- still made her feel uncomfortable. Her father and Thrakos didn't seem to be harboring any doubts... but that just made her wonder a little bit about her family... and the man she loved.

The plan, assuming it went properly, would involve two of their soldiers successfully temporarily replacing two of the servants of the house and locating the prisoners. Then they would signal the men outside to create a distraction in the front if necessary, which would allow the Elrics and Thrakos to sneak quietly in the back and get the family out. However, the distraction would only happen if there was a real threat of their being discovered. Ideally they would get in and out without alerting anyone in the house -it was more of a mansion really- to their presence.

The shadow of another man crossed behind the rice-paper screen doors, backlit by the house's interior lighting. It paused, bent down as if to pick up something that had been dropped, then opened the screen door and shooed something out of it, like a bug or frog. Minxia couldn't have said which. It seemed too cold for either.

Of course, there was no animal. That was the prearranged signal that the location where they were being held had been discovered and, for the moment, there was no one between them and that door. It was clear to proceed.

"Let's go," her father whispered, and they slipped quietly and quickly around the pond and up onto the back porch of the house.

Minxia's heart was pounding. I am not cut out to be a burglar. Sneaking into Korina's room at Chalas to prove she was drugging Thrakos with bad love potions had been one thing. This... this could get them all killed.

The soldier - Panlong Va - did not say a word as they joined him. Instead, he nodded and led the way back down the hall he had come from, taking an immediate left turn at the first hall intersection he came to.

They had to walk quickly to keep up. Minxia couldn't imagine that their footsteps wouldn't be noticed, but then she considered that they were hardly the only people up right now, and so it wouldn't be weird to hear footsteps moving at this measured pace that he insisted they keep to. It was fast, but it wasn't hurried, just purposeful.

They crossed more than one hallway, and ducked through at least three rooms, until Minxia was completely lost. What was this place, a labyrinth? Even though she had visited her family in the Imperial Palace, and the largest mansions and palaces of Creta, this warren got her turned around.

They had reached a part of the house with no windows. All of the rooms were completely interior. ::How much further?:: she finally heard her father -though barely- say to Panlong.

::Just here,:: the other man replied, pausing outside the door and gesturing. ::Everyone is currently inside. They just finished bathroom runs for the prisoners.::

::Then let's get this done,:: Minxia cut in, and she stepped forward and opened the door.

She was met by five pairs of eyes that went from concerned and some suspicious to startled in less than a second. Meifen, bless her cousin, recognized her almost at once. ::Minxia?::

::And team,:: Minxia managed to smile as Panlong, her father, and Thrakos followed her in and closed the door behind them. No reason to advertise the escape until everyone was moving. ::We're here to get you out.::

::Then let's get out of here,:: Peina declared as she rolled off her bedroll and got heavily to her feet. Jiu, already standing, bent down to assist her.

Minxia moved forward to help her up, as her father and Thrakos did the same, though Meifen and Xenia stood with more ease. The children, sleepy as they were, took Panlong's hands without argument, though the Yao soldier looked a bit mystified at their trust.

::Is there anything you need before we get out of here?:: Will asked. ::We're going out through the back. There's an old gate in the wall that's been abandoned for years given the growth on it. Wrap yourselves in blankets; it's cold and the vines have thorns.::

No one argued and in less than a minute they were ready.

Together they opened the door and headed back out the same twisted route they had come, though more slowly and silently, with Panlong checking ahead of them each step of the way to avoid raising suspicion or getting caught. Having swiped a servant's uniform from the laundry, he looked like he belonged, and as long as he acted as if he was just checking on things for the night, it shouldn't seem too suspicious.

They avoided walking into two occupied rooms that way.

Minxia wasn't sure her nerves could take much more of it -

- when they heard doors slamming and feet pounding down the hall.

::In here,:: Panlong guided them through an open door which he closed in time for three other servants to go flying by looking panicked.

::What's that about?:: Meifen asked.

Something exploded on the other side of the house.

::That would be our necessary diversion,:: Will replied. ::We've got to hurry.::

Minxia's cousins' children looked scared, but less so than Minxia had expected. Perhaps it was because they had already been kidnapped and terrified. Now they were getting out, and escaping had to be less scary than what they had already endured.

They picked up the pace, though it was still achingly slow in Minxia's opinion. Tired children and a heavily pregnant woman did not make for fast movements, not if they wanted any semblance of stealth.

One hallway from the back garden door, stealth went out the window.

::They're escaping!:: a voice shouted from down the hallway as three men appeared at the other end, running towards them.

::Go,:: Minxia felt her father's hand briefly on her shoulder as he pushed her towards the exit. ::Take them and go!:: He moved into a fighting stance, and Minxia felt her throat knot at up in fear, even as her feet did as she was told. Panlong turned with Will to face them and Thrakos grabbed up both kids – one over each shoulder with a show of strength Minxia hadn't realized her possessed – and ran, as Meifen helped Peina out the door and Xenia ran.

Minxia's first instinct was to fight and help her father, but she wasn't a soldier, and that wasn't the plan. Behind her, she heard warriors collide, with more voices than she had anticipated, and she recognized the voices of a couple of the Yao warriors and knew they had come running as well. _Get to the gate, get to the truck. _That was the plan and she had to stick to it or their entire purpose for coming would be shot. Possibly literally.

The sound of gunfire rang out, and Minxia felt more than heard something hot whiz past her head not more than a foot away, before it smacked the leaves off a bush. "Run!" she shouted, urging everyone to greater speed.

Not that anyone needed the encouragement. They were moving as fast as they could, stumbling past the bushes now into the less-tended part of the garden, smashing into the thorny plants they had made half-a-trail through earlier.

More gunshots rang out, though not all of them seemed to be aimed their direction.

Thrakos stumbled, but somehow managed not to drop either of the children as he staggered to his feet and kept moving.

"Are you all right?" Minxia asked as they pushed into the brambles. The gate was just ahead, and she saw Peina and Meifen get there first, with Xenia and Jiu right behind.

"Fine," Thrakos grunted, as he set the children down and shoved them at her. "Get them in the van."

"What do you think you're doing?" Minxia asked as she gathered them to her. In their fear, neither was talking.

"To help your Dad." Thrakos kissed her lips briefly, then turned and started to run the other way.

Minxia fought down the urge to run after him. _Idiot. _She wasn't entirely sure if she meant herself or Thrakos, but she turned and brought the children through the gate. She couldn't risk them, and Thrakos had known that. _Just be careful._

* * *

><p>::Is that really all you've got?:: Will taunted the pajama-clad man in front of him, who had –thankfully- charged up to fight him without a weapon. Not that he necessarily needed it. The man was clearly well trained in hand-to-hand fighting, because he had been giving as good as he got. Will was fairly certain he had at least one cracked rib and what would be some very colorful bruises later. Though he couldn't say it wasn't almost enjoyable, fighting someone who wasn't likely to be able to get in a lethal blow. <em>Trained, but not currently a soldier.<em> The man was probably about his age, and about as out of practice.

It was all fun and games until someone started shooting. At first, it wasn't inside the house –until Will and Panlong found the man shooting at the escaping Imperial family and smacked him over the head. Then things got a little nuts. They wouldn't shoot in close quarters; too much of a chance of hitting each other, which was good for Will, Panlong, and the other Yao fighters who had thrown themselves into the fray, and bad for them.

It didn't keep them from doing serious damage however, as several ran in carrying swords that had probably been relegated to ceremonial use until tonight, but were certainly keep perfectly sharp.

Not for the first time Will envied his father and uncle's ability to transmute without a circle. He just didn't have time to draw one, so he found himself falling back on his training, grateful that the last month had honed his reflexes to a sharpness that even staying in general practice had not helped him keep up.

Thrakos burst back into the fray –now without children hanging from him- and the tide began to turn as he slammed his fist into the face of the man that Will had been facing off with.

"You stole my fun," Will quipped, though not without gratitude as Thrakos continued into the next guy, and Will joined in, sweeping legs as Thrakos laid him out with his other fist to the side of his head.

"Thank me later," Thrakos replied.

::Go!:: the Yao Colonel – Will couldn't recall what Minxia had said his name was – shouted as he gave Will a meaningful glance. ::Both of you. There's not room for us all.::

::Leaving you behind is not tactically sound:: Will responded.

::We will follow you, never fear,:: he got in reply even as the man spun and kicked an enemy in the stomach. ::Head for your mother-in-law. You will all be safe there.::

Yao Province. Will nodded. ::We will see you there.:: Then he disengaged from the man attempting to attack him by stepping back and flipping the man off the porch and into the fish pond. "Thrakos! Let's go."

His soon-to-be son-in-law shouted what sounded like assent, and was soon pelting back across the grass with Will towards their exit.

As they scrambled through the brambles, Will realized that Thrakos was bleeding from his right side. "You're injured," he commented as they slammed the gate closed, and crossed the road behind to the waiting truck.

"Just a scratch," Thrakos waved it off. "We can bandage it in the truck. Let's go." He climbed into the back and shut the doors.

Will nodded as he hurried to the front, where he found Minxia in the passenger-side seat, and Xenia and Peina sitting in the back seat of the cab instead of in the rest of the truck. "Pregnant women get priority," Minxia commented by way of explanation as Will jumped into the driver's sheet and closed the door.

_Plural_? Will looked into the back seat, and Xenia smiled weakly and shrugged.

"Definitely time to get out of here." Will put the van in drive, and pulled away. Turning around in the alley and making for the quickest route out of town, which would take them out by way of the North gate he had come in, then angling East. As long as they got out of town without trouble, he should be able to make a very fast break for the border. Thankfully, he had filled it up with gas before they started the operation, so they should make it out of the Province without stopping –outside of the likely bathroom necessity. "Was anyone else hurt?"

"Meifen twisted her ankle," Minxia informed him, "But no. Aunt Jiu, and Taia and Bano are fine, just scared. Are you all right?"

"Just bruised," Will assured her, keeping his eye on the roads as he tried not to draw attention to them too quickly by speeding. It wouldn't help them any if he got pulled over in the city for traffic violations. Not that he intended to stop, but he wasn't interested in a high speed police chase either. "Though I'm glad I put first aid supplies in the back. Thrakos took a scratch back there."

Minxia tensed. "How bad?"

_Bad enough his shirt's going to be ruined._ "He said it was all right and he'd take care of it," Will said. "You can ask him about it yourself whenever we stop, but if he could fight with it, it can't be all that bad."

Minxia did not look entirely convinced, but she also couldn't get into the back of the truck while they were moving. That was probably good, Will thought. It would give Thrakos time to get himself cleaned up and bandaged before Minxia saw him, which meant she would have less reason to be mad at them both.

At least, he hoped so. Will rather liked Thrakos, and it would have been a shame if his daughter killed her fiancé for risking himself before they even got to the altar.

* * *

><p>Edward couldn't help grinning –though he refrained from bowing- as he, Winry, and Alphonse disembarked from the plane after they landed along an empty stretch of dirt field at the back of the Imperial Army camp.<p>

Everyone who had gathered around was looking at the plane with some awe. There was also a mix of admiration, suspicion, excitement, and fear, sometimes in varying quantities and not always exclusive of each other.

"Welcome to the Camp," Franz said as he offered his hand, which Ed shook firmly, resisting the urge to pull his son-in-law into anything resembling a rough bear-hug. This was not the place, nor the time. Family reunions would happen in private later. Not that this didn't look like one already, with Franz there, and Tore, Roy, Ren, Michio, James, and Mao and Tao. Ed spotted Ted standing just a bit behind, and Jean Stevens.

"It's good to be back to ourselves," Ed replied. "I was getting really tired of pretending to be someone else. It's a lot easier just being me."

"That doesn't mean it's easier living with you," Al chuckled as he shook Franz's hand as well, then gave in to the hug-need and embraced his daughter-in-law. Ren hugged him tightly.

Winry had also caved into the need to hug family and started with Tore and just started moving on down the line.

Ed turned and shook Mao's hand, then that of his son. "I hope you have been able to verify the information we sent you." While he knew they had done their reconnaissance well, it was always best to have a separate source confirm.

"With what you gave us, yes," Mao nodded, looking pleased and relieved. "Your actions have likely saved Xing, and the other countries, a lot of trouble Edward. I have alerted the heads of the other countries myself, and they are sending out their own men to find the bases you mentioned and make sure that there are no further attacks." He paused a moment, and seemed to steady himself. "My apologies. I am still recovering."

"Then we really shouldn't stand on ceremony," Ed replied. "Let's go inside and talk this over with food and something to drink, shall we?"

"Really, Ed," Winry shook her head.

"What? We haven't had a good meal in days," Ed objected.

"I am certain we can accommodate you," Tao smiled. "Dinner is nearly over in the mess, but we prepared extra to be sure to have some left for your arrival."

"Good man," Ed chuckled. "I've always liked Xing hospitality."

They walked in a group, not to the dining hall, but to the Imperial private dining room in one of the actual buildings. It was far more humbly appointed than anything Ed had ever seen in the palace, but it was still at least as nice as his dining room back home, which was impressive for a room in the middle of a war. _So being Emperor does have some perks._

"Did you really destroy all of his notes?" Mao asked once they were seated and Al, Winry, and Ed had been provided with dinner.

Ed nodded. "It was the safest option. There wasn't anything in them that I don't already know, and there was way too much that was dangerous. The plane outside should be proof enough of that. While we dumped almost everything on Fort Cilin, there's still enough payload left to do some damage if you needed to strike another military target, but no more than one, and I wouldn't recommend studying anything in there too closely. It's too dangerous to allow that information to continue to exist." He hoped Mao understood the severity of the situation. He had seen too many world leaders who could not resist having a bit of that power, that security, themselves once it was within their grasp.

Mao looked thoughtful, but not angry. "I understand your concerns," he said after deliberation. "And I agree with your principles. You say there is enough for one strike should it be needed?"

Ed nodded. "Nothing as big as what we dropped on the Syndicate, but enough to make a reasonable threat against Tiahuan . Now that they aren't the only ones with rockets –and we have their only plane— they ought to be more interested in negotiation or surrender, don't you think?"

"Devious, but effective," Franz nodded, looking thoughtfully approving. "Shan and Fischer have managed to push the soldiers back nearly fifty miles from the city in unprecedented time. Teno is completely cut off save for the couple dozen soldiers he has left in the palace. Their rocket factory is gone, the Syndicate in disarray. It shouldn't be too difficult to defeat them with sound military tactics at this point." He sounded almost pleased at the idea that they wouldn't have to continue being more creative than the other side to win the same amount of ground that more traditional tactics would have gotten them in different circumstances.

"Do you think Teno would surrender if you threatened a strategic point with another explosion?" Ed asked. He had given the possibilities a lot of thought, and the remaining arsenal needed to go. It wasn't something they should hold on to. There was too much risk of it being used later, by someone else, for the wrong reasons. Yet they had the upper hand now, and they would be fools not to play their aces.

Franz was the one who shook his head. "No. He's insisting in his broadcasts and any attempt we've had to communicate with him inside that his armies will be victorious and prove the rightness of his rule."

Mao and Tao both looked insulted, but Mao nodded. "I'd drop those rockets on the palace itself to get at him, but in the interests of our Empire, that's not the best idea."

"It's already going to need extensive remodeling and repairs already," Tao agreed.

"We're going to need to wait a few days and see what happens," Franz finished. "With what you've accomplished, they've got to be reevaluating their chances. The units Fischer and Prince Shan are dealing with threw a panicked and very ill-advised attack yesterday, wasting quite a few rockets uselessly against the alchemists."

"Much to our benefit," said Tao. "Also, thanks to your Firestorm and Proteus alchemists, we have a man on the inside to prove as a barrier to our leak."

"Oh?" Ed asked curiously. "Who's that?"

"Chizan Tiahuan," Tao replied. "He assisted them in helping my brother's escape, despite being a lesser member of the Tiahuan family. He is in love with my sister."  
>All the motivation a man could ever need. "By all means then," Ed picked up a bean-bun and took a large bite, "Let's feed Teno everything we want him to hear."<p>

* * *

><p>After dinner, Ed found a moment to catch Franz alone on the way back to the command tent. Ed wondered if Franz even slept anywhere else.<p>

"Was there something you wanted?" Franz asked him with a tired wariness that told Ed he expected to be asked for something, possibly a miracle.

"To tell you," Ed nodded, speaking softly as he fell into step beside his son-in-law. "We didn't just kill Hashman, his main henchmen, and two dozen of his most ardent and capable followers. Franz," he took a breath, then placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. Franz stopped and looked at him. "I got him –the one who set up the whole attack in West City; the one who shot Sara and burned the place to the ground. He's dead… and he knew exactly why he died when I did it." He met Franz' eyes, and wondered if the flash of fire he saw there was a reflection of his own feelings.

For a moment, he thought he might have misread Franz' response. First he looked shocked, then angry, then perhaps regretful. Finally, he reached out and grasped Ed's arm in reply. "Thank you, Ed." Whether the gratitude was for the death of the man specifically, or the knowledge that justice had been served, was not clear. Ed decided not to ask.

"Focus on ending this war," Ed continued. "You're a damned good General. Let's get this done so we can take the rest of our family and go home."

"I'm working on it." Franz frowned. "But every time I turn around there seems to be something that requires a brilliantly unorthodox strategy, or to make use of something potentially stupid done by my subordinates."

"We don't all have to be Mustangs and Bredas," Ed replied calmly as he let go of Franz' arm. "There are different ways of leading, and yours is working just fine."

"Yeah well, when this is done, I think I'm going to relish going back to my desk job."

"When this is done," Ed cautioned, "They may think you're too good for your desk job."

"I'll deal with that when we get there."


	27. Chapter 27

**Mar 10****th****, 1984**

There was never enough time on a phone call home, Roy thought, as he clutched the receiver in the communications room as if it would allow him to touch his wife and children on the other end. He had already spoken with Rosa and Gabriel, and the desperate urge to be home protecting his family was the most painful it had been since he left. "You're being careful right?" he asked, trying not to sound over-protective as he responded to Trisha's brief summary of the reconnaissance she had been helping with, keeping an eye on old Hashman Syndicate lairs and looking for the final pockets of the remaining Central cell.

"As careful as you are," Trisha retorted, though she didn't sound angry. "I'm perfectly well equipped for this job, and you know it. We don't have to barge into potential shoot-ups with me on the job."

"I know, babe," Roy assured her apologetically. "They're better off with you than me for that stuff, that's for sure. By the time we're done here I'm sure you'll have everything all wrapped up and leave me with nothing to do when I get home except apologize for being gone so long… a lot. I rather enjoy apologizing."

"And I like it when you apologize," Trisha chuckled softly on the other end, the subtle drop in her tone telling him she quite understood the innuendo beneath his words. "So you'd better come back to me intact enough to do so."

_Intact, hrm? Very witty, love. _"Oh I'll be sure of that," Roy grinned. "Take care, Trish. I'll see you as soon as I can. Love you."

"Love you, too." He heard what sounded like a kiss into the phone before the line went quiet.

Roy's smile faded as he left communications and walked back to his camp, where he sat on a camp stool and stared at the fire in front of him. The sooner they were done with Teno Tiahuan and his very costly delusions of grandeur, the better. He was beginning to think he should have just torched that whole wing of the palace when he had the chance.

"You all right, Firestorm?"

Roy turned and saw Tore Closson had joined him. "Yeah. Why?"

"You look more brooding than usual."

Well, he just might at that. Leave it to Shock to notice. "I'm just worried about Trisha. I don't like the idea of both of us in harm's way at once. If anything happened—"

"I haven't heard about any more rocket attacks in Central."

"I don't have secret intelligence," Roy managed a weak smile. He didn't want the Shock Alchemist worrying about if he was mentally fit for combat. "Being apart is just making me antsy."

"You've got to trust her to keep herself safe."

"I do trust her."

"I just remember a particular mission where I had to keep the two of you from ripping each other apart," Tore replied, smiling nostalgically. "You used to have quite the jealous streak."

He was referring to their first mission together, to Drachma, of course. Roy winced. He and Trisha had nearly torn each other apart on that one, and under Tore's command too. Roy sometimes wondered how it was Tore hadn't just electrocuted them both on the spot for the unnecessary aggravation their romantic dispute had added to the mix.

"I'm not worried about any member of the Hashman Syndicate seducing my wife," Roy snorted. "The only thing I'm jealous of in Amestris is my pillow, because it's getting a lot more snuggling than I am."

Tore looked visibly relieved by his response. "I feel the same way about Charisa's favorite blanket," he admitted. "The one she likes to wrap all up in when it's chilly."

"Many men probably envy _that_ blanket." Roy could only think of a few women in Amestris who got more covetous looks than Charisa Breda Closson, even now.

Tore snorted. "They can envy it all they want. I'm the only one who gets what's inside."

"If we don't stop with these terrible references, I'm going to need a drink," Roy winced. "You're not nearly as good at this as my wife."

"You said it, not me."

"I don't think they'd court martial me for scorching you to death if I told them what you just said, even if you are my superior officer."

Tore just looked smug as he shrugged. "You make it easy, Firestorm." He stood to go. "This is why we really need to go home; so our wives can save us from surviving on our own terrible humor."

**March 16****th****, 1984**

Six days at a standstill. Six days without a shot fired.

It was almost like getting a vacation.

Not that Cal really believed that, but it was a nice break. He watched the Tiahuan camp in the distance through a pair of binoculars, and thanks who or whatever was listening that the Tiahuan seemed more intent on licking their wounds than trying to make another push at them just yet.

Teno had not given up. His regular broadcasts continued trying to rally his people, though imprisoned as he was in the Imperial Palace –for that was, in effect, the situation now— they weren't doing much good. The holding pattern continued.

Cal was grateful that his head had mostly recovered in the intervening days. It only throbbed dully every so often, and his auto-mail was once more functional, though if he had to try anything more complex than basic running on his foot it might be difficult.

They were half-way back through the province north of the one in which the Imperial City claimed most of the population. While the Tiahuan had reformed their line, they didn't seem to know what to do with it anymore.

And that was entirely okay with Cal.

"General Fischer."

Cal looked down the embankment to see a second lieutenant standing below. "What is it?" he asked as he turned and slid easily down the angled dirt slope to stand next to the dark skinned woman.

"A telegram, Sir," she held out the strip of paper. "Or at least, one read over the radio. The message came through this morning when they got the new communication relays up and running."

"Who's it from?" Cal asked, taking the paper, his heart leaping, half with hope, the rest with dread at what it must contain; news from home… news of his wife. Orders had never come in this form. At least, not yet.

"I didn't read it, Sir."

"Of course not." Cal opened the telegram and began to read.

Almost at once relief flooded through him so heavily that his knees almost buckled. His vision blurred, but it didn't matter. Only a very few words were clear, and they were all that mattered.

_Alyse's condition has stabilized, and while she is weak, I believe she will make a full recovery in time. For now, she remains in the hospital. Her broken ankle will mend, and she is recovering strength and ease in breathing. Ethan_

Cal would complain about the quality of Ethan's messages –and their infrequency- later. All that mattered was that Alyse was alive, however badly injured, and that she wasn't in immediate danger of dying. If she had died, he would not have been able to forgive himself for being out of reach and unable to protect her.

"Bad news, Sir?"

"What? Oh." Cal shook his head, and surreptitiously wiped an eye with the cuff of his sleeve. "No. Not bad at all, Lieutenant. Thank you. Dismissed."

She saluted once then vanished back into the gathering late-afternoon haze that seemed to drift in each evening just before dusk this time of year in Xing. If not for the enemy army across the way, the effect would have been particularly charming.

_Only Alyse would call something _particularly charming. _Damn, I miss you, sweetheart. This is almost over. I can feel it. Just hold on and I'll be back as soon as I can._ It was the only promise he could offer, and it didn't feel like enough. That didn't mean that he couldn't send a message back.

As he turned and walked towards the barracks tent, he began to compose a quick reply in his head. Though it wouldn't go to Ethan.

_Dear Alyse, I'm so relieved to know that you're going to be all right… _

* * *

><p>::How did you manage to get the right phone number for Imperial Command?:: Will asked his mother-in-law, feeling duly impressed, as Mei handed him the number.<p>

::Oh it wasn't difficult,:: she smiled. ::As soon as we announced my survival and where I was, we got a call from them within the hour.::

::And here I was expecting a more complicated story.:: Will chuckled, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks. The drive to the Yao estate had taken longer than he anticipated, as they had been waylaid and had to take back roads, which had in turn been complicated by a late-spring spurt of snow in the mountain pass they had ended up taking back into Yao Province. What should have been a couple of days had turned into nearly six, and only now were they all safely at the home of Shirong Yao and his family, settling in and getting truly warm for the first time in days.

When they had arrived in the late morning, Peina and Xenia had both vanished with their children for baths, food, and a look-over by the Yao personal family physician. Meifen was next for her ankle which turned out only to be mildly sprained, followed by Thrakos –mostly at Minxia's insistence that he have his gunshot wound looked at by someone more experienced than himself and Will- who only objected mildly, looking more amused by Minxia's uncharacteristic fussing. He had emerged looking mildly smug and told Will after that the doctor had been impressed with how clean and well bandaged the wound was given the circumstances. Thankfully it had only grazed his ribs.  
>Will's bruises hadn't gotten more than a glance, and Minxia and Jiu had come out thankfully unscathed. So eventually everyone was clean, and warm, and dressed in borrowed clean clothes, then set down to a proper –and indulgent- meal.<p>

The first thing Will had done when he hit the showers was use a little additional alchemy to remove the dye from his hair. It was nice to see his familiar dark blond looking back at him instead of the near-black it had been for weeks.

Will had taken it upon himself to have the honor of calling. Mostly because he hoped that Ren would be available, and he could assure his wife personally that he and their daughter were both alive and well, as well as the rest of their family. He wished he had a full report on how many Yao lives had been lost, but he did not have the details of any reports that had gotten back to Ling and Shirong yet. That, however, was Yao family busiqa1 2qw1 ness, and they would tell Will and the others what they wished them to know.

Will dialed the number and waited while the phone rang twice on the other end.

::Please identify yourself,:: was the only greeting he got on the other end.

::This is William Elric, civilian, son of Alphonse Elric, the True Soul Alchemist, calling from the Yao residence to report the successful rescue of _all_ of the remaining Imperial family from the Tiahuan city of Xaotan.::

::Please wait just a minute.:: Then there was a long silence.

Will couldn't help chuckling as he could imagine the poor soldier sent running for the appropriate people, and he wondered who would get to the phone first.

::William?:: Mao's voice came across the line.

::Your one and only brother-in-law,:: Will replied. ::We just arrived this morning, but I've got Jiu, all the girls, and the kids, here with me, as well as Mei. Turns out my daughter and her daredevil fiancé got it in their heads to facilitate a rescue, and I was lucky enough to stumble right into their plans as I was escaping the factory in a stolen truck.::

On the other end, Mao started laughing, a sound that was full of slightly manic relief. ::You have the family luck, all right. Your father and Ed have been assuring me not to count you out. I had hoped it wasn't just for the sake of my sister.::

Will's heart fluttered a little. He hadn't seen Ren in far too long. ::My father is there?::

::Oh yes. They flew on in here with that flying machine that you liberated, after they demolished the Syndicate headquarters of course.::

So they had succeeded. ::May I speak with him?::

::Later,:: Mao replied. ::Someone else wishes to speak with you first.:: He sounded slightly put out, and there was almost a scuffle sound on the other end.  
>"William Hohenheim Elric if you ever scare me like this again I swear I'll—"<p>

"Whoa, whoa there!" Will interrupted, trying very hard not to chuckle at his wife's fearful fury. He didn't think his wife had _ever_ invoked his middle name… ever. "I missed you too, princess. I'm fine, and so are Minxia and Thrakos."

That set off another barrage of shocked indignation and fury. "—they think they're doing running straight into danger when I thought they had more sense than—"

Will waited patiently for his wife to run out of steam. Eventually she stopped to breathe, and he cut in before she could get a second wind. "We're all safe," he said more softly. "And as soon as it's safe to travel, we'll be on our way back to you, I promise. I'm sorry I scared you."

The apology seemed to take the last of the steam out of her. "At least you're all right, and you saved _everyone_. It's almost more than I could have hoped."  
>"I'll make it up to you when we get home," Will promised.<p>

"You'd better. I need to hand off the phone," Ren said regretfully, and she was replaced almost at once by Tao, to whom Will reported once again his assurance that the family was fine, and that Peina and Taia were fine, and that their unborn child was also doing well.

The full report was giving in ear-shot of both Mao and Franz, and eventually, exhausted of any new information, the conversation ended and Will hung up the phone.

Mei rested a hand on his shoulder. ::This will end, and we will go on with our lives. You have done your part. Now, it is time to rest.::

::Thank you,:: Will smiled, grateful for her understanding. The family had mostly finished eating by the time he rejoined them.

::Is there anything you need?:: Ling Yao asked as Will sat down to his meal.

Well, since he had offered…. Will couldn't help smiling. ::Need? No. However, I would like to ask you a personal favor.::

Ling looked intrigued. ::And just what would that be?::

::When I'm not sneaking around saving the world, I'm actually a professor of history and philosophy at the University in Central. If it would not pain you much, I would like to speak with you about your knowledge on the events surrounding the last change in dynasty, and your personal history. The truth is best served when all viewpoints are known, and the world has not heard your story.::

::That's because I was a raving lunatic for several decades,:: Ling replied dryly before nodding. ::No one has ever asked me this since I regained myself. I believe you would report me honestly, so yes, I will grant you this.::

::Thank you,:: Will smiled. It would help him, as well, to have something productive and not life-threatening to accomplish. ::Where would you be most comfortable being interviewed?::

::In my study,:: Ling suggested, with a slanted, wolfish grin. ::It's comfortable, and I have an excellent rice-wine, vintage 1920.::

::That sounds… potent.::

::That's the idea.::

Maybe it was a good thing Ren was still several hundred miles away.


	28. Chapter 28

**March 20****th****, 1984**

Feeding information –and sometimes misinformation- to Teno Tiahuan inside the Imperial Palace was easier than Franz had worried or expected. Roy and Ted's escapades had provided them not only the name of the Xingese leak – a second lieutenant in the Xing military who had been promised a high position if he took Teno's side – but their own double-agent in Chizan Tiahuan, who seemed quite eager to prove his loyalty to the Imperial family, and not just Meifen.

Franz was quite happy to confirm for Teno exactly how badly his military was doing, and that the Imperial-Amestrian forces did indeed have the Hashman Syndicate's experimental airplane in their possession, complete with what was left of its rocket cargo. He left it at that for a couple of days, without making threats, just to let it sink in.

The news that the Imperial family was alive and well went out the same day that Will confirmed it for them, complete with a television crew –paid for by the Yao family— that interviewed Mei, Jiu, and Meifen about their capture and captivity, as well as their subsequent heroic rescues by the persons of Minxia Elric, Thrakos Argyros, William Elric, and the brave soldiers of Yao Province, who publically declared their support of the proper Imperial regime.

Eleven days after Edward and his crew rejoined their forces and ended their mission of stealth, Teno Tiahuan had refused to surrender. He had addressed the country twice more, both times urging his men in their "righteous cause" and not to give in to the pressures of the old, corrupt regime.

Fighting continued along the Tiahuan/Yao border, though the Provinces who had allied with Yao in support of the Xian Dynasty arrived on the eighteenth, and that line did not look as if it would last much longer.

Within the city, restoration had already begun, and Franz and Mao had not bothered to try to retake the palace just yet. Teno could do little harm, it seemed, trapped inside what was now little more than a gilded and lacquered cage.

The only remaining positon of truly problematic resistance then, was the front on which Shan and Cal and their men stood. They had sent forces from the city to bolster the efforts, but the Tiahuan had done the same, and after several skirmishes, held at a relative stand-off on a plain in the middle of Chouso Province.

Which meant it was time to make the point. Franz looked at his father-in-law across the table covered in maps of the area where the two armies were currently camped.

"You're ready for this?"

"All fueled up, loaded, and ready to fly," Ed nodded.

"I meant personally." Franz, despite his feelings about the Syndicate, and the Tiahuan who had been helping them wreak so much destruction, wasn't sure how he would have felt if it was him stepping into that plane to go make the display of power that was about to come. There was something terrifying about the use of something so destructive; terrifying and tempting, and that was why it scared him just a little.

"I'm going to fly over, make a couple of terrifying sweeps, and blow up a huge barn." Ed shrugged and smiled a little sadly. "It's one of the most harmless things I have done lately, Franz. My only regret about what happened at Fort Cilin is that their deaths became necessary when they continued to attack innocent people. I don't know what the world will require in equivalence, but I can only hope that I was the one making the repayment instead, for all the lives they destroyed before." He picked up a glass of water and sipped it. "This is just a display of power; a threat to scare the crap out of them. If it works, I won't have to kill anyone else."

"It doesn't bother you?" Franz asked, a little surprised by the cavalier tone.

"It bothers the hell out of me," Ed replied, frowning slightly. "What I've done, but I've come to terms with it. I had to do it before, war after war, when I couldn't avoid killing people. I hate it, but that doesn't mean I haven't accepted what had to be done. I will spend the rest of my life working to make amends, to give as much good to the world as I can. In any case, better me than some poor young man or woman who hasn't had to suffer the soul-tearing heartbreaks yet that could tear them apart inside. I've learned how to make peace with it. Today, I'm just glad that all I have to do is show off."

Franz hadn't thought of it quite that way. His father-in-law had always been surprisingly philosophical at moments when other men might choose to stop thinking about what they had to do because of how distasteful it might be. But Ed was too self-aware for that kind of thing, and too aware of how every action affected the world around him in potentially invisible ways. "You have a point. Good luck, Ed," he held out his hand, which Ed took, and they shook firmly. "If this works, I look forward to going home and getting the hell out of this place. I've had more than enough of Xing."

Ed snickered. "As much as I like the place, at this point I'm inclined to agree."

* * *

><p>Tore was glad his alchemists weren't needed round-the-clock for staring at the surrounded palace. It left them free to help with the restoration efforts within the city itself. While they had not allowed any of the fled citizens back into the city yet, except in critical support roles, there were still thousands of people in the city, and probably billions of sens in damage. Damage that, thankfully, much of which could be put to rights with a little prodigious alchemy.<p>

So that was what Tore had put his alchemists to work doing. Anyone with talents that could be applied towards construction, electrical wiring, or other forms of physical restoration was put to the tasks of rebuilding destroyed and damaged structures. They started with the hospitals, large public eating places, and then buildings of any sort in the worst states, as long as they hadn't been completely turned to rubble. Days of work had yielded amazing results already. Large portions of the city were looking as good as –or better than- they had before. Others still needed a lot of work.

Roy spent a lot of time alternately helping burn refuse that couldn't be restored, or being used as a human blow-torch on various projects where metal welding was necessary. Michio had joined in, after much insistence, and was primarily working on helping restore medical implements, helping up at the university, or serving to assist with basic medical treatments. Since he wasn't technically under Tore's command, he let Michio work pretty much anywhere within the scope of important repairs. All it really meant was that Michio checked in with him from time to time.

After a long conversation with Franz, Tore had put Ted back to work. The Proteus Alchemist could do just about anything they needed, if not quite on the grand scales that Fullmetal had managed in his prime. At least, not yet. Ted could restore buildings, floors, basic lighting, elements of plumbing, and fix just about anything that was just broken. So he was in high demand, a fact that Tore had expected would please and relief Ted. He had moped about the camps doing menial duties long enough.

Yet Ted didn't look rejuvenated by his return to duties. In truth there didn't seem to be much change. A fact that Tore would bet had to do with whatever conversation Ted and Clarina had engaged in when Tore had arranged that phone call. He didn't know what had been discussed, but Ted seemed to be on auto-pilot since then. He did his work, without question, but also without most of his previous flippancy or energy. He wasn't even sarcastic.

In some officers, Tore would call it growing up. At the moment though, he would call it somewhere between bruised ego and broken heart.

Tore was supervising the reconstruction of the Imperial City train station, his thoughts half on Ted as he watched the young man restoring a length of tracks, when he heard a roar in the sky above that sounded nothing like thunder.

Looking up into the open sky, Tore still felt an odd sense of wonder as he watched the plane fly overhead. He had known, of course, that Ed was flying it out this morning, with Alphonse on board as his bombardier. That didn't make it any less miraculous to see a man-made metal bird soaring above him in the sky.

_It'll be a shame when they take it apart._ He knew Ed. There was no way he would let either military keep a hold of the thing. It had already proven how destructive it could be, and they were just lucky that it had fallen into the hands of allies instead of remaining in the hands of the enemy.

Tore could imagine the explosions it could have set off over Central, and he shuddered. Charisa had come out of the attack on Headquarters alive, and in far better shape than many others. For that, Tore was grateful. He felt sympathy for Cal, whom he hadn't had the opportunity to speak with lately, given limited communications, but he was sure was agonizing over Alyse's injuries.

Hopefully they would all be going home soon.

* * *

><p>Why the hell wouldn't these guys give it up for lost? Cal was already well past tired of fighting over the land of innocent people trying to make a point to the remaining bulk of the Tiahuan army.<p>

Not that he could honestly say he would have given up if he were in their shoes either, depending on what was at stake. Yet there were times when retreat was a sound tactical move, and the Tiahuan seemed to be staunchly against this principle of classic tactics. Amestris had given up ground on purpose more than once under Breda's brilliant strategies that had won them their defensive war against Drachma, allowing them to push an overpowering enemy back and destroy them.

They had attacked - again- right at noon, meaning that the Imperial-Amestrian forces had not been given the opportunity to eat lunch, waiting for the attack that had clearly been coming. So on top of being sore, and tired, Cal was hungry too, which did little to improve his disposition as he used a nearby well to soak, then freeze, two enemy trucks, cracking the metal apart as the men inside them leapt out of the way and fled.

Cal became aware of the whining in his ears, and that it wasn't in his ears, but in the sky above. A steady whomping that came closer, until it shot overhead. Glancing up, he saw what he had only heard described in the report sent the day before from Command - an airplane, a bomber Ed had called it, shooting by overhead so low that the whine turned to a scream.

The Amestrians and Shan's men had been warned to expecting something, but the Tiahuan men had no warning. There was a momentary lull as they stared at the sky in shock.

The plane rolled, banked, curved, and came back over them lower, practically diving down at the Tiahuan soldiers. Several broke and scattered at the left flank, where the plane skimmed the ground. It didn't even come close to hitting their heads, but Cal got the feeling they didn't want to know how low it could fly.  
>Looking at those propellers, Cal was pretty sure he'd duck too.<p>

* * *

><p>"I think they're impressed!" Alphonse called out from the back of the plane where he was looking out of the gunnery window.<p>

"Of course they are. We're impressive," Ed grinned as he brought the plane around again, even lower, and watched the Tiahuan men scatter below them. He hadn't even had to fire a shot yet to inspire the right amount of fear and respect. The plane did that all on its own.

"They probably don't even know it's us," Al pointed out.

Ed shrugged slightly, skimming not too far above the tops of the trees before pulling back on the stick, and climbing again. Three passes should be enough. He angled around and spotted their actual target - the abandoned barn of an industrial sized farm about a hundred yards from the Tiahuan line. When it went, they would know it, but it wouldn't be a direct hit on their men. Peripheral damage should be minimal, but the precision of the strike should send the right message: we can destroy you, but we won't unless you make us. "Ready back there?"

"On target and ready to drop."

The joking stopped as Ed brought them in a little higher than their last dives, lining up even well out from the target, ready to pull up as soon as the rockets were away. He was grateful that his muscles remembered how to fly better than his head did; though it had come back to him fairly quickly on their way to the Fort. _Keep it steady, there we go. Right on target. We just have to get this one right… _

"Bomb's away!"

Ed pulled up and headed for the sky, ears open for the sound that came seconds later… the exploding barn.

* * *

><p>The last time Cal had seen fire like that, The Flame Alchemist had been controlling it. The barn went up in a second, a roiling ball of flames and smoke, with a bang so loud and a wave of force so strong his ears popped and the ground shook.<p>

On the battlefield, no one moved, and for several seconds, all eyes were riveted on the destructive force in front of them.

Then the whine of the plane's engines grew louder, and the Tiahuan looked up in fear.

::Warriors of the Tiahuan Province,:: Shan's voice echoed across the battlefield from the loudspeakers hooked up to a truck. ::This is your Prince, Shan Xian. You have just witnessed a precision rocket strike from the air. This plane is the only one of its kind, and is the same one used to destroy the Hashman Syndicate base in Fort Cilin, which is now destroyed, as you have heard if your superior officers have seen fit to tell you what is all over the news across the empire.:: There was a pause, as if to let those words sink in. ::You know well what your small rockets can do. The plane holds munitions two and three times as powerful. Surrender and you will live. Surrender, and rejoin your Empire under its rightful ruling family. Teno Tiahuan is a prisoner, not an Emperor. He has led your people to your near destruction. But his sins are not automatically yours. If you wish clemency… if you wish fair justice… now is your chance to save your men, and go home to your families. You are all brave warriors, and for your tenacity and determination you should be saluted. You have ten minutes, or the next strike will be a military target."

Since they were the only military around, Cal knew the Tiahuan had to be considering their options very quickly. He wondered what their commanding officers were thinking, and he hoped that they were not so foolish as to try and die in a blaze of glory.

* * *

><p>"What do you think they're thinking?" Al asked Ed as he came forward. Ed circled above the battlefield, keeping an eye out from above. The challenge had been made, and now he would wait for those minutes to see what the Tiahuan decided to do when their hand was forced. They could refuse, but Ed and Al would rain annihilation down on their heads.<p>

"That they should never have listened to their buddy Teno and his crazy ideas," Ed quipped in response, opening a bottle of water and taking a sip. "That maybe they should have taken a lesson from Drachma at how stupid coups are and how badly they usually work, even when they win. They've just broken decades of Xing unification and relative peace, and they haven't accomplished what they set out to do. Now, they have no hope." It wasn't all that unlike what had happened with Germany in some ways. At least, Ed could trace many similarities. He just hoped that this didn't turn out that way. Of course, that was why he had insisted on taking control of the flight mission himself.

Al nodded soberly and from the look in his eyes, Ed knew his brother was having similar thoughts. "Except to hope that their officers make the right decision."

* * *

><p>Cal felt like he was holding his breath. No one was fighting. The Imperial-Amestrian units were waiting to see what happened. The Tiahuan soldiers that Cal could see looked too scared and unsure of the situation, and were not ranking men. They would not be involved in the decision process. He suspected they were figuring out now just how expendable they might be.<p>

Without warning, something screamed, and a rocket shot up into the air towards the plane.

A collective gasp went up all around him as Cal resisted the urge to shout _look out, Fullmetal!_ He wouldn't have heard him.

Almost at the last moment, the plane titled, rolled, and dove out of the way, and the rocket exploded behind it, hiding it from view in a smaller flaming ball that lasted several seconds.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and Cal found himself praying to anything or anyone that might be listening that they had survived.

Over the fading sounds of the explosion he thought he heard engines.

The plane appeared off to the right, re-stabilizing and coming back around.

Cheers went up from more than half of Cal's side, soon followed by the others.

::Tiahuan Army. Your choice to fire on our-::

But Shan's response was cut off by the raising of what looked like a bed-sheet, or the canvas ripped off the top of a military vehicle, hastily tied to a tree-limb.

The sea of Tiahuan men began to part, and a minute later, three men in officer's uniforms appeared, with several soldiers behind them, hoisting the flag, if it could be called that.

::Come with me.:: Shan had appeared at Cal's side.

Cal nodded, following Shan forward. They met the Tiahuan officers in the middle, between both armies.

As soon as they stopped, the three officers bowed formally to Shan, and dropped to one knee. Cal recognized the insignia on the man in the middle – a younger man, maybe in his mid-30s- as the equivalent of a two-star general.

::Speak,:: Shan said simply.

::My name, my Prince, is Inada Marato. On behalf of my forces, we wish to negotiate the terms of our surrender. I, apologize, for the rash response of my munitions team. They panicked. I have ordered them detained where they cannot cause further harm, until they can learn how to act responsibly and not shoot at people without orders.::  
>How politick. Cal refrained from commenting, smirking, or otherwise letting his thoughts be visible. It probably wouldn't go over well.<p>

Shan eyed them. ::What do you propose as your conditions for surrender, General Marato?::

The man continued to stare at Shan's boots. ::Your proposal, Imperial Highness, if you will still consider it, is most fair. I wish that my men be allowed to return home; the common soldiers, those who have had no say in our decision to follow Teno Tiahuan. My officers and I will willingly remain in your custody to be tried for whatever war crimes you feel appropriate, given our egregious decisions and the harm they have done to the Empire.::

So pretty much, they would take whatever the Imperial Family decided to do with them, and hope for mercy. Seemed reasonably fair to Cal, though he did feel a modicum of respect for officers whose only request was the protection of their men.

::We will escort your men home,:: Shan said after a very long silence. ::The ones who shot the rocket, and yourselves, will be held under arrest until such time as a proper and fair trial may be arranged. Do you accept the terms of the surrender?::

::We do,:: the three men chorused.

::Then stand, General.::

Marato stood, and bowed once more to Shan, who merely inclined his head ever so slightly. ::We thank you for your graciousness, Highness.::

Shan did not look his way, but Cal knew he was being addressed when Shan said ::Report this to our officers. Tell Lian and Cai to prepare their men and then meet me in the command tent. Then communicate with my father that the intelligent officers here have come to a wise decision, and have turned themselves over to the mercy of their Empire.::

At that, Cal let himself grin. ::Yes, Sir.::

* * *

><p>"That was a close one," Al commented behind Ed's head as they circled up higher into the air, out of the likely range of any more attacks. "I guess they're not as smart as we thought."<p>

"Stupid idiots," Ed growled, leveling them out and wishing he could see below them instead of just circling above. There was no real way to look down without angling the plane that direction. At least, not for him. "Can you see what they're doing?" His heart was pounding. That had been far closer than he liked. Thankfully he still had decent reflexes and a very responsive set of controls.

"Not really," Al admitted. "We'll just have to wait for a message from the ground."

"My favorite thing to do, sit around and wait," Ed quipped. Still, it was better than getting confirmation that they were going to have to mow down the rest of the Tiahuan army. He was tired of blood on his hands, however much he had accepted the possibility with insisting on having control of the plane and the weapons aboard.

But it wasn't a long wait, in the grand scheme of things. Ten minutes of interminable circling later, the radio crackled to life. "This is Ground to Sky."

"Sky here," Ed grabbed the radio. "What's the word?"

"Objective achieved. The army has agreed to the terms for surrender, and has handed over the remaining rockets. You are cleared to return to base."  
>"Thank you, Ground. Sky out." Ed grinned at Al and waited until they were out of sight of the army before arcing around and heading north-east. "Ready for our other mission, Al?"<p>

His brother strapped down into the co-pilot's seat and chuckled. "Ready. Let's go bring everyone home."


	29. Chapter 29

**March 21****st****, 1984**

Alphonse had never expected to find himself in the home of Ling Yao, and he knew Edward hadn't either. Ed was taking it quite well, he thought, though that might have had to do with the enthusiastic greeting of the rest of their extended family. Before coming face to face with Shirong's father, Ed and Al were swamped first by Will and Minxia, then Mei and the rest of the family, though understandably the younger generation of women and children were a little more reserved. They didn't know them as well.  
>Al shook Thrakos' hand. "You're far from home," he commented.<p>

Thrakos chuckled, his eyes going to Minxia, who was chatting animated with Edward about something. "Not really."

Al grinned, his potentially embarrassing retort to his granddaughter's fiancé cut off by Mei coming up to them. ::We can be ready to leave as soon as you and Edward feel rested enough to take off,:: she said. ::How long is the journey?::

::A very long day,:: Alphonse informed her.

::That's all?:: Mei looked startled. ::This is truly an amazing feat.::

::The world is much smaller when you can travel by the skies,:: Al replied. ::Though we will want to prepare the cargo area for passengers.::

::Edward has spoken with Shirong,:: Mei nodded. ::They are preparing modifications.::

::Efficient.:: Al smiled. ::Then I expect we will be ready to leave at your preference. Between the two of us, we can swap out the controls if the other is tired. It's actually quite easy to direct the plane in the air. It's take-offs and landings that require the most skill.::

::You mean I could fly it?:: Mei looked slightly wondering.

::Sure,:: Al chuckled. ::You've mastered so many other skills. I'm sure you can handle steering.::

* * *

><p>There was little resemblance in the man that sat across the table to the one who had questioned Edward a lifetime ago. Over forty years had passed since the angered and half-mad Ling Yao had attacked the eastern borders of Amestris, looking for the key to immortality in the hopes of securing himself the throne of Xing.<p>

Edward's memories of those days, of the tortures he had endured, and the days he had spent a captive, less than human, had faded only some with time. He could ignore them. He could spend weeks or months without ever thinking of those days now. He had long since come to terms with the events, and in the restoration of Shirong, felt some sort of closure.

The man in front of him might as well be another man, from another age. Not that Edward was the same man he had been then either. He had been through a lot since then, and come out of the fires forged stronger than ever, at least in his less than humble estimation. He was still alive, after all.

::You look more at peace,:: Ed commented, sipping the strong dark tea he had been offered.

Ling Yao nodded. ::I could say the same. I know it will make little difference now, but I am so very sorry, Edward, for what I had done to you, for what I _did_ knowing that I was inflicting on your family the same torment that had been rained on mine. The fact that they tell me I was already mad then does not forgive my trespasses. Despite what I did, you restored my son to me that I had thought was dead. In doing so, you helped restore my sanity, my life, and the honor of my Clan. When you had every right to hate me, and to see us destroyed forever, as we already seemed to be, you did the noble thing. I cannot thank you enough for these undeserved gifts, even knowing that you only did what you thought was right, and probably gave little thought to me in the process. I am well aware,:: he added, sipping from his own cup, ::That I had been largely forgotten, a crazy old man in a hospital, until you recognized me in my son. Even now, it is only your nephew who has asked for my side of those events.::

::Will did that?:: Ed asked, startled.

Ling smiled. ::He said he wanted to write a book about it, or at least an article. He wants to teach the events as truthfully as possible in his classes. It is an honorable goal, and one I respect. We had a long and excellent talk the other day. I am also impressed with his daughter and her fiancé. I have heard many exploits of other members of your family, and I admit that it relieves me that they have flourished and grown, and that you have prospered despite the events I am now sorry that I ever caused. I do not have the right to ask your forgiveness, but my apology is sincere.::

It was far more than Edward had ever expected of the man, and he could hear the sincerity in his words. Ling Yao had been given years to stew in the depths of his mistakes. Where Edward had been rallied around and supported, even when he made mistakes, Ling had been abandoned by everyone and locked away, and forgotten. ::You suffered, and you acted in your suffering,:: Ed replied slowly, aware of the heavy-handedness of the words in the Xingese phrasing. ::I cannot say I did not blame you, or that I do not now, but I _do _forgive you. It is a lifetime past, and it's time to bury old grievances and move forward.::

::Thank you, Edward,:: Ling saluted him with his tea cup, ::And well said. _You_ would have made a fine world leader.::

Ed laughed. ::If you think that, then you still don't know me as well as you think.::

::Which is to say, not all that much, to be true,:: Ling replied. ::We have a couple of hours until they are finished refitting the back of your amazing flying device for the comfortable transportation of the Imperial family. Tell me, how's your Go game?::

::How about I show you?::

**March 22****nd****, 1984**

How had it all gone so horribly wrong? The plan had been so carefully conceived: years of work, cultivating allies, gathering supplies, training his men and generals to not only skill but amazing loyalty.

They had taken the city, the palace itself; the symbol of all power in the great Empire of Xing. He had occupied it, declared his intent, and captured the Imperial family that was driving his homeland into an era of corruption.

He had won.

Then it had all started to come apart around him.

He blamed the Amestrians.

He blamed that damned Mao Xian for not rolling over and dying.

He blamed the Hashman Syndicate for failing to distract Amestris and the other allies well enough to keep them from coming to the aid of the Xian family.

He blamed them _and_ his factory CEOs for failing to hold onto the weapons they had taken years to develop.

Now, he blamed General Marato, and the rest of his men, for failing to win a decisive victory, and instead surrendering.

All that was left was for him to find a way out. Teno Tiahuan had been heralded once as a hero in his own right. His last few loyal followers were here in the palace with him, and they had helped work out a plan for escape.

It was a word Teno hated as much as _loss_, as much as _retreat._ Yet it was his only recourse now. He had to return to Tiahuan Province in one piece, or this was all for nothing.

As it was, he might have to seek sanctuary elsewhere, given that his own people seemed to have given him up.

Teno wondered if his wife and son would be waiting for him, or if they had abandoned him too. He had left them home, planning to call for them only when his victory was assured. His last call home had yielded nothing, not that he had expected much when he had gotten intelligence that his home had been raided, and the prisoners had escaped. Surely Vina and Tennon were safely elsewhere by now.

The escape plan was simple enough. Teno would leave in the early morning, before dawn, when the guard on the palace was likely to be at its most complacent. They would slip out quietly through one of the back servants gates –because given Teno's dislike of all things low, it would not be expected. That was how it had been suggested to him, and he had been too focused on finding a good plan to worry about being insulted by his officers.

So in the pre-dawn hours, around four in the morning, Teno packed only what few things he needed and prepared to leave with a handful of guards: exactly five. Any more would seem too suspicious and difficult to hide. Fewer would not be enough protection.

Out the back, into a truck, and back-road it as far as necessary in order to get home.

At least, that was the plan, until the army outside decided to come knocking. Teno was half-way to the back door when one of his servants he was leaving behind came running down the halls, panting. ::They've broken open the front gates!:: she said, coming to a stop and bowing so deeply she almost fell over. ::There are dozens of men pouring through.::

::We have to hurry, Lord Teno,:: one of the guards ahead of him said. ::If they catch up with us any chance of surprise is lost. They will head for your rooms first. After that, they will know that we are trying to leave.::

It was kind of him not to say _run away._ ::Let's go.:: Teno picked up his pace, surrounded by his men as they wove through the inner labyrinth of the palace, heading toward the point where their vehicle would be waiting.

* * *

><p>::They're not here.::<p>

::That's all right,:: Tore Closson responded to the comment made by one of the Xingese soldiers under his temporary command. The entire royal wing of the palace was abandoned, despite signs of recent occupation. Last night, clearly, Teno had still been in residence.

::It is?:: the soldier asked, looking surprised as he poked his head in a closet more out of habit than any expectation someone might be there.

::Yes, it is,:: Colonel Panlon said as he joined them. ::And yes, every room is about as empty as my kitchen after my sons get home.::

Tore chuckled. He knew exactly what the other man meant. ::It means that someone took the bait.::

::Should we spread out and look for them, Sir?:: the soldier looked at Panlon.

::Yes,:: he replied. ::Round up anyone who came here with Tiahuan. We will want to speak with each of them in turn.::

::Yes, sir.:: He hurried out the door.

::Not that it will be of immediate importance if this plan works.::

::True,:: Panlon smiled at Tore. ::But they don't need to know that.::

* * *

><p>Chizan's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat as he followed Teno towards the back servant's exit that he had recommended –in a round-about way- as the best escape route. It had been a subtle nudge, but higher ranking officers had run with the idea, suggesting it to Teno and taking credit for it. Which was just fine with Chizan. It was better that way.<p>

Whether the Amestrians caught up with them or not mattered little, in theory, but he had no way of knowing if the plan was going to work. If they weren't fast enough—

He didn't have more time to worry about it. They were at the door behind the storage rooms, opening it, in the yard beyond and heading for the gate in the wall that opened out on the back road where deliveries often came.

There was no sign of pursuit.

They were opening the gate, through it. There was the vehicle –a covered truck- waiting for them. It was going almost too smoothly. Either something was horribly wrong, or very right. Chizan's instincts wouldn't tell him it might be somewhere in the middle.

The back doors to the truck opened so they could pile in.

::Nobody move!::

_And, there's the ambush I was expecting._

Chizan held up his hands with the others as they were surrounded by nearly a dozen Amestrian and Imperial soldiers.

The rest of the guard looked like they might start shooting, except that five of the men were clearly marked as Amestrian alchemists. One, in particular, was notable in his striking resemblance to his grandfather.

Roy Mustang the younger stood, gloves on, next to four other alchemists. The Xing soldiers all had weapons at the ready.

Teno Tiahuan looked furious. He spun on his officers. ::You said this plan was foolproof!::

::Don't blame your men, Teno.:: Emperor Mao Xian stepped out from between two men, who parted before him. He was smiling, and looking quite healthy for a man reportedly spending half his time in a sickbed. The Emperor was not dressed formally, but in simple clothes of black with an over-tunic of red, belted with a sash of red and embroidered gold. Downright sensible given the traditional garments in which he was swathed in any official setting. ::After all, every bit of this is your fault, not theirs.::  
>Teno spun on Chizan. ::You! Do something!::<p>

Chizan looked at Teno, and very casually dropped his weapon to the street. ::I have done something. I've delivered you to my Emperor.::

Teno looked stunned, and in that moment the men rushed him, not giving him the opportunity to fight back. Surrounded or not, he _was_ a capable fighter. Still, he couldn't effectively fight that many men, and in under a minute, he was bound and constrained, along with his other four men. Only Chizan remained free.

Grinning, though looking mildly disappointed at the ease of the capture, Roy Mustang held up a radio to his mouth. "This is Firestorm to Shock. The rabbit has been caught, Sir."

Teno looked insulted, but Chizan couldn't help grinning. A rabbit, bolting from his hole with a fire at one end. An apt description of this particular escape plan.

His smile faded as the Emperor approached him. Chizan bowed deeply, looking at the ground and afraid to meet the gaze of Meifen's father.

::Stand straight, Chizan.::

::Yes, my Emperor.:: Chizan stood upright at attention.

Mao wasn't smiling, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. ::It is difficult to choose between loyalties. Particularly when family is at odds with the other. I thank you for your loyalty, and for assisting in the rescue of my son and the feeding of misinformation to our traitor.::

::It was my honor to do my duty,:: Chizan replied, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from his palms on his uniform pants.

::I shall be sure to inform my daughter of your involvement.::

He forgot formality. ::What?::

Mao chuckled. ::Never presume that anything going on in my palace is unknown to me.::

::Yes, Sir.:: Chizan would not question his luck.

Mao turned away from him then, and addressed Teno. ::As for you, I hereby revoke all military rank and titles held by you in the Xing Empire. You are stripped of your nobility, and your claim as the head of the Tiahuan Clan. A suitable replacement will be chosen from those within reasonable distance of the line of succession, but you, and your son, are no longer in that line.::

::What is to be done with me, then?:: Teno asked, using no respectful forms of any kind. Perhaps he had forgotten out of fear. Chizan might be afraid if he had five Amestrian alchemists hoping to have a reason to do something more exciting than stand there looking intimidating.

::That will be up to the courts.:: Mao turned and began to walk away, four soldiers falling into rank behind him. ::But don't expect them to be lenient. You wounded several of them, and their family members, when you raided the palace.::

* * *

><p>It was a very late evening reunion when Edward and Alphonse landed back at the impromptu airstrip beside the military command village. Not that it would remain so much longer seeing as the city had been successfully and completely retaken.<p>

"It's too bad we missed the fun," Edward groused as Winry hugged him and gave him a warm kiss. It was good to see her hair back to its normal color too. Ed and Al had washed the dye out of theirs at the first opportunity at Yao's, while waiting for the plane to be ready to return.

"You got to show off enough," she chuckled softly into his ear. "Now let's just relax and enjoy the fact that we don't have to spend tonight apart, or sleeping in some low-end motel."

"Where _are_ we sleeping?" Ed asked curiously.

"Where else?" Winry's eyes lit up. "Our usual rooms in the palace. We're all going to be staying in the royal wing. It was one of the few areas of the palace that's still in perfect order, aside from a little tossing-aside of pillows and such in this morning's search raid."

A real bad. A very comfortable bed. "Don't tell anyone," Ed grinned, "but my joints will be very happy for that luxury."

"Mine too." Winry smiled as she loosened her grip only to slide one arm through his. "Now come on, or we'll miss dinner and the family reunion."


	30. Chapter 30

**March 23****rd****, 1984**

Despite everyone's exhaustion, the family celebration had lasted well into the night, interrupted only by the necessity of having Mao, Tao, Jiu, and Peina step out to make a brief but very public television and radio appearance to demonstrate without a doubt that the coup was over and to explain the terms of the surrender.

It wasn't until the next morning over a hearty breakfast that Edward found the opportunity to discuss the future of the airplane with Mao, Tao, and Franz. Mei and Al were still in the room, but everyone else had left the table. He didn't even have to bring it up himself, because his son-in-law conveniently did it for him.

"We still need to decide what we're going to do about the plane," Franz commented over his rolled omelet, "And the remaining rockets on board, small as they are."

Mao nodded. "It is a difficult question," he agreed. "Naturally, my advisors and government such as it is, would prefer that we retain control of the machine, since it was designed by Xingese engineers, and taken as a spoil of war."

"And what is your opinion on it?" Ed asked warily. The men who had taken it were him and Al, and they were very much not Xingese.

"Well, it was you –working ostensibly on your own- that liberated it from the hands of its designers," Mao pointed out, a tone in his voice that made it clear he knew full well that their unofficial mission had been unofficial only in that Ed and the others had the freedom to do whatever they needed to do, without military constraints. "And given the nature of the information and weaponry involved, I am not inclined to see everything the Tiahuan did reproduced." He sighed. "That doesn't mean there wouldn't be advantages."

"Transportation of important persons, or critical cargo," Franz nodded thoughtfully, sipping a cup of thick, dark coffee that slightly fogged his glasses. "The ability to view problems from the air, the response speed for an emergency situation; the possibilities are many."

"For peace as well as war," Ed conceded. "But look at what it was designed for first. Our world gets its hands on aeronautical technology and the first thing they think of, how to destroy someone with it. Can we honestly say that neither government will push hard enough, or find a reason, for that to happen again? If the plane isn't destroyed than others will study it and more _will _be built."

"The question will always be what men choose to do with it," Mei added into the conversation thoughtfully.

"I'm more concerned about the rockets," Al admitted. "Those are weapons that no one should have. Amestris has put decades of effort into making certain such weapons did not develop in our borders."

"We need to destroy them," Ed replied firmly. "It won't be hard. Al and I can just transmute them into something else, take apart their component parts until they're next to useless, and then destroy them."

"I think we can agree to that," Mao nodded, as did Franz. "However, I'm not convinced that we need to do the same with the plane."

The truth was, Edward didn't want to do it either. Still, a decision needed to be made now, in that fluctuating and unsure period where the government here had not yet resumed normal operations; the gray zone where decisions made in this room and stated by Mao in public would be taken as law, with minimal argument.

Of course, if he just blew it up, than it wouldn't matter what anyone else decided.

"We could always modify it," Ed admitted with a sigh. "Take out the launch doors and the weapons systems; alter the exterior to make it nearly impossible to attach weaponry back on it later from the outside." He was sure he could come up with complex enough metal compounds to make that happen without losing integrity. "Though it should probably be hidden away in some government lab for a decade or so until people forget about it."

"No one's going to forget about it, Ed," Al pointed out with a sad smile.

"That still doesn't answer the question of who gets it," Franz pointed out, and his gaze was on Mao.

Ed glanced between the two men, whose eyes locked. An entire conversation without words was behind had between those two sets of dark brown eyes: a decision that would affect the future of the world as they knew it.

If Franz started another war with Xing over this stupid plane, Ed was going to turn his son-in-law into a brick and toss him out a window.

"Give it to Ed," Tao suggested.

Everyone turned to stare at Mao's heir.

"You're kidding right?" Ed asked, not believing what he was hearing.

"You said to hide it for a decade or more," Tao shrugged. "What better place than the middle of nowhere with someone who isn't likely to tell anyone that he's got it?"

Mao and Franz both looked like they were mulling it over.

Ed had a fleeting moment where he thought about what it would be like, having that plane tucked away in a shed to work on, and look at. But the idea lost its shiny gleam almost as soon as he considered it. The plane had been a war machine, and it would have memories he didn't really want. It wasn't like he'd be flying it anywhere either.

He sighed, and shook his head. "No. While I'm flattered that you trust me –and I'm sort of questioning your sanity at the moment- I don't think that's the right answer. I'll modify it, and for now, dismantle it. Let it be kept in a secure location that you can agree on, with the understanding that it won't be used again without the agreement by _both_ governments that it's necessary. Rehnquist will probably agree to it, since he knows he's not going to get a better deal."

"Good idea," Al agreed.

Around the table there were several nods of consent.

"It's a wise decision," Mei smiled.

"Make sure to tell Winry I did something wise for once," Ed quipped, and went back to drinking his own coffee.

With that decided, the conversation shifted directions.

"How long will your men remain here?" Tao asked Franz. "We are a bit thin until my brother returns with the rest of our army."

"We'll be sending our own men home in stages," Franz replied. "We can't move them all at once. Until that time, they are, of course, at your disposal. We're quite good at rebuilding and humanitarian aid," he added with a wry smile.

Mao chuckled. "So I've heard."

"I'm sending General Fischer's units back first," Franz continued. "They took the worst beatings and suffered the heaviest casualties. After that, it should only be a couple of weeks before we can send the second wave, including the rest of our alchemists who have been rather heavily abused for long enough. A third and final group can go out within a week of that, or they can remain longer if you need us."

"With the restoration of order, and the current eagerness of several Provinces to demonstrate their allegiance, I think we'll be fine," Mao smiled. "Several Clans who have been sitting quietly for decades came at Yao's call to assist them on our behalf. Their men are mostly fresh, and will do a good job keeping an eye on Tiahuan's borders."

"Good," Ed nodded approvingly. "That means the rest of us can get back to the business of living our lives out in peace and general laziness." The news from Amestris and the other countries showed no successful retaliation on the part of the Hashman Syndicate; at least not yet. Creta had already located the remaining nest and dealt with them: killing four men and taken another half-dozen into custody. Ed hadn't heard from Aerugo and Drachma, but Central had reported just that morning having located and neutralized the cell there as well.

Mao looked skeptical. "Somehow, Edward, I do not believe you are capable of real laziness."

* * *

><p>Ren had not felt so at peace in a long while. The rescue of her family, all alive and safe, if not entirely well, had brought much needed relief from the tension and fears she had forced down to keep from being overwhelmed during this ordeal. Her childhood home was still a mess, and would require extensive renovation and restoration in places, but the balance in Xing, and the Imperial monarchy, was restored.<p>

Mao, despite his public front, was still getting over his illness, and spent most of the next couple of days resting. Not necessarily in bed, not with a country to run, but tucked warm with lap blankets in warm rooms as he worked. Tao did a lot of it, and anything that involved running around and meetings on various minor matters. He had gotten used to doing it all while his father was missing, and Ren was proud to see that her nephew would one day make an excellent Emperor.

Mao held court, but only in the private sitting room of the family, with Jiu constantly in attendance. Ren had not seen his brother's wife apart from him since their return, which was as it should be. Will rarely left her side, except when needed, as he seemed to have volunteered himself in Mao's service as another errand runner and helping get the family resettled comfortably. Ren and her mother took turns keeping their eye on Mao to make sure he didn't over-tire himself. His insistence on being there for the capture of Teno Tiahuan had pushed his reserves further than they should have.

This morning he had summoned Chizan Tiahuan to him, with Tao and Meifen in attendance. Mei and Ren were both there as well, and Ren was curious to see how her brother would handle this particular matter.

Meifen looked uncomfortable. Ren wondered how her niece felt. For most of the past couple of months she had worried that the man who was interested in her, the one she was interested in back, was a traitor. Only now had he proven himself to be a loyal member of the Empire. Yet she had been cool and distant with him the past couple of days.

::Chizan,:: Mao began, and Ren turned her attention to the man kneeling before her brother. ::I have summoned you because we must speak.::

::Yes, my Emperor,:: Chizan bowed his head, but remaining kneeling, his hands resting on his knees. ::How may I serve?::

::You have done much already,:: Mao replied. ::Today is about what I may do to thank you. From today forward, you shall hold the title of Defender of the Empire, and the accompanying rank of Lord of the Imperial Court."

Chizan's mouth dropped open slightly for a moment before he caught himself. ::Thank you, Imperial Highness. It is an honor I dreamed not of.::

::You have proven yourself better than many of your clan,:: Mao continued, ::And I do not hold a family against a man, or a man against a family. The name of Tiahuan may yet be restored, as Yao has done, with loyal service proven over time. I have discussed with my Generals,:: he nodded at Tao, ::and you shall also be promoted to the officer ranks.::

Overwhelming. That was the look on the young man's face, though Ren knew it was with joy. Surely Chizan realized what all this meant beyond words and accolades. A hero in his own right, an officer, and a rank of nobility. That not only publically declared him free and guilty of any involvement in the coup, but put him of a rank to be a reasonable suitor for the daughter of the Emperor. Not, traditionally, the greatest match in rank, but it would suffice to shut up any naysayers in the governing councils. Meifen was the youngest, and both of her brothers married with children. There was no need to worry about heirs to the throne. Nor would it be a problematic political match. The Tiahuan should, by all rights, be grateful that one of their own, however peripheral, might find favor with the Emperor. Not that it would actually affect anything having to do with the politics of the coup. Ren knew her brother. He had done this for his daughter.

Meifen looked less surprised, though Ren suspected this was an excellent acting job on her part.

::I thank you.:: This time, Chizan bowed deeply, until his nose brushed the lacquered and polished wood of the floor.

::We will speak more another time. For now, you may go and report to General Roku. He will instruct you in the proper protocols.::

Chizan stayed bowed a moment longer, then he stood and left.

::You may have leave to go,:: Mao turned to his children. ::Our official business is ended for now, and I think-:: he paused, and yawned, ::that it is time for me to catch a nap before my mother and sister decide it is necessary to knock me unconscious.::

::How wise of you,:: Mei replied enigmatically.

Ren chuckled, watching Tao and Meifen depart. ::That was well done, Mao.::

::I'm glad you approve, Renxiang.:: He smiled, then turned to them before. ::There is one more thing I wish to discuss, with just the two of you.::

* * *

><p>::You should speak with him,:: Tao told Meifen firmly, though quietly, in the antechamber.<p>

::What do I say?:: Meifen asked, feeling more conflicted than she had before her father's pronouncements. ::This seems awkward to me. I am glad father pardoned him, but that doesn't erase the last month.::

Tao smiled. ::Little sister, have you not heard all that he has done?::

Meifen shook her head. ::I've only been here two days,:: she pointed out. ::We have not spoken.::

::He did more than lead us to Teno's escape route. He set that up. He provided information to us from inside once we had connection with him.::

::How do you know it was not to save himself?:: Meifen asked, voicing her deepest doubts.

Tao sighed. ::Mei, he volunteered to aid Roy Mustang and Ted Elric when they snuck into the palace to find information. He helped save Shan, and refused to come out in order to provide information to us. He has done all he promised. Whether you choose to trust him or not, is up to you. No one requires anything of you, but father and I find him to be sincere. Still, before all this, I know there were feelings between you. You should speak, and at least find out where you stand with each other now that so much has happened.::

Meifen sighed. Her brother was right, of course. That didn't make it easier. ::You are wiser than you were before,:: she said. ::Very well. I will speak with him.:: She should find him quickly, before he was back on duty and too busy to speak. She should find him before she lost her nerve. ::What will you do now?::

Tao smiled. ::Well, after I meet with the Generals, I have scheduled to spend the entire afternoon with Peina and Taia.:: His faced was bright with joy, and Meifen could not help but smile in response.

::Then you should hurry through business so you can go spoil your wife,:: she said. ::I know when he returns Shan will want to do the same.::

She was surprised when Tao pulled her into a hug. ::You are very brave, Meifen. I'm so glad you are home and safe. Peina told me how strong you were, how you took care of everyone. I love you, Sister.::

Meifen felt tears in her eyes. ::Thank you, Brother. I love you too.::

When they parted, she went looking for Chizan. Aunt Ren had offered her healing on top of that which had been given by the Yao family physician, and while her ankle still hurt, she could walk on it without fear of damage.

It seemed most logical to wait for him outside the office of the Generals. Standing around the hallway where the guards' rooms were would be awkward, and there would certainly be talk. There was a general sitting room not far from those offices where they could speak privately.

She did not have to wait long. By the time she arrived, Chizan was coming out of the office, with papers that were certainly orders. His eyes lit up as he spotted her, and he moved to join her.

He smiled. ::Good afternoon, Princess.::

Meifen managed a weak smile in return. ::Chizan… may we speak?::

::Of course.::

He followed her to the sitting room, and held the door for her before closing it behind them both, blocking out the rest of the world.

They were along for the first time in nearly two months. Meifen saw the expectation and wonder in his eyes. His longing; surely he wished to take her in his arms, to hug her, to kiss her perhaps, as he had not yet dared. Her heart fluttered, and she silently cursed Teno Tiahuan for complicating what had already been a complicated situation.

::Congratulations,:: she said finally, starting with safe words. ::My brother tells me all the things you have done for my family. I thank you.::

::It was what I must do… because I wanted to,:: Chizan added hastily. ::I would do anything to protect my Emperor, his family… you.:: He set down the papers in his hands, and his coat. ::I have cursed myself every night since the attack, that I was not able to save you from your captivity. I stayed – because it was all I could do. Teno assumed that I was loyal to the family, and I let him believe it, Meifen, because it kept me where I could know what was going on. It helped me make sure your brother was not abused. But it killed me not to be able to come after you, that in the fighting I had not been able to get to you before it was too late.:: He held out a hand, hopefully. ::I can only hope you will forgive me. Your father honors me perhaps more than I deserve. He offers me great rewards, but they mean less to me if you do not feel they are earned.::

::I was relieved to learn you were not a traitor,:: Meifen admitted. ::My father has removed many of the complications that made our friendship difficult.:: She used friendship, because she had no better word for it. There had been nothing official beyond a mutual attraction. ::You must deserve them::

::Meifen…:: Chizan sighed. ::Please, don't speak formally. I love you. It has nothing to do with your family, or that you are a princess of Xing. You are a wonderful woman, and I want to be with you. I want to court you properly, but only if that's what you want. I know you've been through a lot, and I don't want to put pressure on you, but you need to know that I feel even more strongly for you now than I did before. It would be unfair of me to lie. But if you don't want that, I will respect you. You don't have to answer me now,:: he ran on quickly. ::You need time, I'd imagine that my timing is terrible, but-::

Meifen silenced him with a finger on his mouth. ::You're right,:: she replied softly as he shut up at once. ::It is a lot, and I'm still feeling kind of overwhelmed. Nothing feels normal. But… I don't want to hurt you.::

::Which is why we have time,:: he reminded her. ::I will wait for your answer, whatever it is, for as long as you need. Please, don't let this get in the way of being friends.::

::I won't.:: Meifen smiled. What she needed right now was the friend she had gotten comfortable with, and a little time to readjust and see where her feelings really lay.

::Thank you for understanding.::

He took her hand, bowed over it, and kissed it. His grin was playful. ::You are most welcome. Now, would you be willing to help me celebrate my good fortune?::

::What did you have in mind?:: she asked.

::They reopened the pastry shop down on Cherry Blossom Street. How do you feel about a cream pastry?::

They were her favorite. Which, of course, he knew. ::That sounds great.::

**March 25****th****, 1984**

::So what is this big announcement you want to make?:: Tao asked his father as they all sat around the table after dinner.

Edward, who had been wondering that himself, let his conversation with Al fade off as everyone turned to look at Mao expectantly. Ed knew only that Mao had discussed his decision only with his sister, mother, and wife, which left him wondering what it could be about though, being something of a genius, he had a couple of hunches.

No one else was talking.

Mao smiled, shared a glance with his wife, and began. ::Well, as my dear mother and sister keep reminding me, I need a break. I need time to relax and recover without the pressures of trying to put the Empire back together at the same time. So, to this purpose, it seems wisest to me that I grant all the rights and powers of Emperor to my eldest son,:: he gestured to Tao, who looked startled, ::so that he may do anything that needs doing in my stead without being questioned.::

::What makes you think the councils will accept this?:: Tao asked.

::I won't give them the choice,:: Mao replied. ::Besides, you will have the rare opportunity to learn to rule while I am still alive to offer advice. However, given how you've handled this situation in my absence, I hardly think you need it.::

Ed refrained from grinning. Al caught his eyes and Ed shrugged. _Told you. _

Al shrugged back. _I didn't disagree._

::I'm flattered, Dad, but how will you keep people from looking to you instead?:: Tao continued. ::Not that I am not grateful, but people will see me simply as standing in for you.::

::Not if I am not in the country.:: Mao smiled. ::I am going to go stay with my sister for a while.::

::In Amestris?::

Ren and Will both grinned and nodded. So apparently Will, at least, had been consulted.

Ed managed not to drop his mouth open. Okay, so he hadn't seen that coming.

::I haven't gotten to live my life for myself since before my father died,:: Mao pointed out. ::Jiu and I are not needed here. We will go to Amestris. It won't be forever, but it will give you time for people to begin to think of you as Emperor in your own right. That, and it means I don't need an Imperial entourage to go to our little Minx's wedding.::  
>Minxia chuckled, though she blushed slightly. ::It will be wonderful to have you there, Uncle Mao.::<p>

::My family has enough entourage for everyone,:: Thrakos added with a look that said he would be quite happy if they didn't.

::That's wonderful!:: Winry exclaimed. ::You'll enjoy Central.::

::I expect so,:: Mao smiled. ::Though I'm not entirely certain how thrilled your government will be to have us living there long term. Filing the paperwork to live in your country is bound to be… interesting.::

::I'm sure I can speak to Customs,:: Franz cut into the conversation. ::There has to be a way of fast-tracking living visas for foreign royalty.::

::We'll just be family members there,:: Jiu pointed out. ::It's been quite a long time since we have been able to live simply. I look forward to it.::

::We certainly have the room, with Minxia and Michio out of the house, and Kamika nearly there,:: Ren added. ::It will be a great chance to catch up.::

Tao still looked stunned. Next to him, Peina took his hand, giving it a squeeze. ::Are you ready to be Emperor?:: she asked her husband with a hint of amusement.

::It's unprecedented for the throne to pass on while the old Emperor is alive, isn't it?:: Meifen asked.

Tao was the one who answered. ::It has happened occasionally, in a great many generations, usually due to the inability of the current Emperor to continue ruling. Sometimes they were ill, or insane. Usually though, some political rival killed them off relatively quickly afterwards.::

::Sometimes their own sons,:: Mao added with a short laugh. ::Which is hardly my concern. However, it will be easier for the country to see you as Emperor if you can settle into your own rule while I am not here. Certainly your mother and I will not remain away forever. But hopefully, when we return, the Empire will look to you, and we can remain in the background. I rather like the idea of retirement.::

::It's not like they won't have grandchildren to spoil,:: Peina added.

::There is that.:: Tao looked at his daughter, who was paying only as much attention as a bored little girl might, which was to say she was intently drawing on a piece of paper with colored pencils. Then he looked at Peina, who was due to give birth within the month. ::When did you wish to go?:: he looked back at his parents.

::Only when I am well enough to travel,:: Mao replied. ::At the insistence of our many familial physicians. Of course, we will stay long enough to see our newest grandchild. A month or two, I expect.::

::Enough time for everything to be settled,:: Mei nodded. ::This is wise.::

::Nice to know I have gained some wisdom in my life,:: Mao quipped, and everyone laughed.

"Well, it looks like things will be interesting in Central," Al commented quietly to Ed as the family generally broke out in a smattering of different conversations again, though several involved Mao, Jiu, and Tao and what the family would be doing as they adjusted to this new change in dynamics.

"We'll definitely have to come up for a visit," Ed nodded. "Though I'm looking forward to getting back to Resembool for a while. Mal's probably wondering if we're ever coming back, and I'd like to just kick back and relax in my own house for a while."

"I don't blame you for that," Al agreed. "I'm looking forward to getting home to Elicia, and checking on the rest of the family. Though the latest news from Ethan about Alyse was encouraging."

Ed nodded. They hadn't even known about the attack on Central until they had arrived at Imperial City, and by then, the news that Alyse had been injured also included that of her recovery. Though, Ed understood his brother's concern. A man never stopped worrying about his daughter.

Ed glanced over at Franz, who was now talking with Tore and James in what looked to be a fairly intense discussion about plans for moving the military out in the proposed stages. He hadn't had much chance to speak to Franz privately since giving him the news that Sara's killer had met his end, and that the Syndicate had been hamstrung, it's very heart struck down. There seemed to be a subtle change about him though; a shift toward inner peace that had not been there since his daughter's untimely death. He hoped his actions had helped Franz find peace. Roy had already cornered Ed privately and giving him a bear-hug –on behalf of both himself and Trisha- that had nearly cracked Ed's ribs. His hug for Winry had been only slightly gentler.

James had been almost in tears when he thanked his grandfather. The younger man showed far more of the release and joy than his father, but then, James was not also weighed down with the responsibility of this war.

Now that the fighting was over, perhaps all of the family could finally come to find the peace that had been missing.

**March 27****th****, 1984**

Cal had never been so happy to see rows of tents. He was even happier to find out he didn't have to stay in one, as his arrival was immediately followed by a summons to the Imperial Palace, and the information he would be joining the rest of his extended family in staying there until they left.

Not that Cal planned to stay long. The first thing he wanted to do was find out when his units were leaving so he could get home to his wife.

"I knew that was going to be your first question," Franz chuckled as they sat drinking rich, dark, south-east Xingese coffee with Tore. "Believe me, I'll be sending you home as soon as we can get a train arranged. There's one returning from Central right now, and it should be here in the next couple of days. With luck, you'll be on it in under a week."

"That's what I like to hear," Cal saluted Franz with his coffee cup. "We're all pretty banged up, to be honest."

"Given what you were taking, the fact that almost all of you came back is little short of a miracle," Tore pointed out. "I envy you, getting to go home first. Though the work we're doing in the city is speeding up the restoration process exponentially."

"A fact that everyone appreciates, and is making Amestris very popular among the locals in particular," Franz nodded, looking satisfied. "It will be difficult for any remaining Tiahuan sympathizers to paint us opportunistic villains when we're giving all of our efforts to helping without asking for any remuneration."

"Which is why most of my men are staying." Tore nodded.

"Most?" Cal asked.

Tore sighed, and Franz' smile faded. "It's Ted," Tore replied. "He's requested permission to stay, but I've assigned him as Ed, Winry, and Al's personal escort back to Amestris. They're hitting Central first, so it's not an unreasonable request."

As Cal understood it, they would be on the train following his. Ed and Al were going to offer a bit of their own alchemical expertise to the restoration efforts, focused primarily on the palace, before they left. "If he wants to stay, why send him home? He's one of the most versatile alchemists we've got right now."

"He's also not over the mess with Alabaster," Tore replied flatly. "Physically he's fine, but emotionally he's a wreck. He's just got it all bottled up inside where no one who doesn't know him can see it."

Cal sighed. It seemed to happen to all of them sooner or later in this life. He'd been where Ted was. He remembered when Tore was at that point. "He needs to go home and sort himself out," he agreed. "Though I bet he didn't take too well to being told no."

"He managed to keep his temper," Franz answered. "I don't think it helped, but I'm sending James and Jean Stevens home on the same train with them as part of that escort. They're support personnel, good as they are, that will be more use back in Central picking up what's left of the Hashman Syndicate."

"What about Roy?" Cal asked.

"He'll be staying until I come home," Tore replied. He didn't look thrilled at the prospect of staying longer, but he shrugged. "We can't all go home to our wives when we want to."

"Hey, if I'd left when I wanted to, you'd be talking to an empty floor," Cal pointed out. The one good thing to getting beat-up on the front lines, he got to go home first. Not that he looked forward to Alyse's admonitions when she found out about his injuries. At least this time he would be pretty much back together and healed when he saw her again. Thank goodness for a thick skull and quality auto-mail.

"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to making Charisa wait longer," Tore sighed. "At least it should be reasonably peaceful work at this point. The city no longer looks like a warzone."

Cal nodded in agreement. "Yeah. That new gate on the West side is some nice work." It stood where the giant hole had been made in the wall to let them through in their attack to retake the city. "It's got a rather unique style to it."

Franz chuckled. "Blame Ed. It's his handiwork."

"At least it's better than his old stuff," Cal sipped his coffee. "Otherwise we might be at war with Xing over bad fashion sense."

"If it were that easy, we'd already be in trouble."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: 34/2015 Finis! We've come to the end of another chapter in the ongoing saga. Next story will see what happens in the aftermath of this war. Folks will go home, lives will continue, but will it be peaceful? Of course not! _

_The next story will begin after our Spring Break due to me being very busy packing, grading, and then without computer access for the duration of vacation. Expect more excitement later this month! Thanks for reading. *Grins* _


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